THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


SOUTHER. M    BRnNCh 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
LfBRARY 

LOS   ANGELES.  CALIF. 


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Stretching  out  her  hands  to  me,  and  with  a  little  moan,  she  said: 
Take  me  to  him."      Page  S^. 

— Black  Rock. 


Connor, Ralph 
Black  Rock, 


1180-4 


^^5B7 


T^. 


V3^ 


BLACK  ROCK. 


The  story  of  the  book  is  true,  and  chief  of  the 
failures  in  the  making  of  the  book  is  this,  that  it  is 
not  all  the  truth.  The  light  is  not  bright  enough, 
the  shadow  is  not  black  enough  to  give  a  true  pict- 
ure of  that  bit  of  Western  life  of  which  the  writer 
was  some  small  part.  The  men  of  the  book  are  still 
there  in  the  mines  and  lumber  camps  of  the  moun- 
tains, fighting  out  that  eternal  fight  for  manhood, 
strong,  clean,  God-conquered.  And  when  the 
west  winds  blow,  to  the  open  ear  the  sounds  of 
battle  come,  telling  the  fortunes  of  the  fight. 

Because  a  man's  life  is  all  he  has,  and  because 
the  only  hope  of  the  brave  young  West  lies  in  its 
men,  this  story  is  told.  It  may  be  that  the 
tragic  pity  of  a  broken  life  may  move  some  to 
pray,  and  that  that  divine  power  there  is  in  a 
single  brave  heart  to  summon  forth  hope  and  cour- 
age may  move  some  to  fight.  If  so,  the  tale  is 
not  told  in  vain. 

C.  W.  G. 

B 


INTRODUCTION. 


I  THINK  have  met  "  Ralph  Connor."  Indeed, 
I  am  sure  I  have — once  in  a  canoe  on  the  Red 
River,  once  on  the  Assinaboine,  and  twice  or 
thrice  on  the  prairies  to  the  west.  That  was  not 
the  name  he  gave  me,  but,  if  I  am  right,  it  covers 
one  of  the  most  honest  and  genial  of  the  strong 
characters  that  are  fighting  the  devil  and  doing- 
good  work  for  men  all  over  the  world.  He  has 
seen  with  his  own  eyes  the  life  which  he  describes 
in  this  book,  and  has  himself,  for  some  years  of 
hard  and  lonely  toil,  assisted  in  the  good  influ- 
ences which  he  traces  among  its  wild  and  often 
hopeless  conditions.  He  writes  with  the  fresh- 
ness and  accuracy  of  an  eyewitness,  with  the 
style  (as  1  think  his  readers  will  allow)  of  a  real 
artist,  and  with  the  tenderness  and  hopefulness 
of  a  man  not  only  of  faith,  but  of  experience, 
who  has  seen  in  fulfilment  the  ideal  for  which  he 
lives. 

The  life  to  which  he  takes  us,  though  far  off 
and  very  strange  to  our  tame  minds,  is  the  life  of 


vi  Introduction. 

our  brothers.  Into  the  Northwest  of  Canada  the 
young  men  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  have 
been  pouring  (I  was  told),  sometimes  at  the  rate 
of  forty-eight  thousand  a  year.  Our  brothers 
who  left  home  yesterday — our  hearts  cannot  but 
follow  them.  With  these  pages  Ealph  Connor 
enables  our  eyes  and  our  minds  to  follow,  too  ; 
nor  do  I  think  there  is  any  one  who  shall  read 
this  book  and  not  find  also  that  his  conscience  is 
quickened.  There  is  a  warfare  appointed  unto 
man  upon  earth,  and  its  struggles  are  nowhere 
more  intense,  nor  the  victories  of  the  strong  nor 
the  succors  brought  to  the  fallen  more  heroic,  than 
on  the  fields  described  in  this  volume. 

Geokge  Adam  Smith. 


CONTENIB. 

CHAPTER  L 

PAGE 

Christmas  Eve  in  a  Lumber  Camp - . .      9 

CHAPTER  II. 
The  Black  Rock  Christmas 88 

CHAPTER  ni. 
Waterioo.    Our  Fight— His  Victory 53 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Mrs.  Mayor's  Story W 

CHAPTER  V. 
The  Making  of  the  League. W 

CHAPTER  VL 
Black  Rock  Religion 104 

CHAPTER  VIL 
The  First  Black  Rock  Commtmion 119 

CHAPTER  VnL 
The  Breaking  of  the  League 184 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  League's  Revenge W8 

9 


8  Contents. 

CHAPTER  X. 

PAOE 

What  Came  to  Slavin 170 

CHAPTER  XL 
The  Two  Calls 105 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Love  Is  Not  All 213 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
How  Nelson  Came  Home 225 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Graeme's  New  Birth 237 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Coming  to  Their  Own.     25€ 


BLACK   ROCK. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CHRISTMAS    EVE    IN    A    LUMBER  CAMP. 

It  was  due  to  a  mysterious  dispensation  ot 
Providence  and  a  good  deal  to  Leslie  Graeme 
that  I  found  myself  in  the  heart  of  the  Selkirks 
for  my  Christmas  eve  as  the  year  1882  was  dying. 
It  had  been  my  plan  to  spend  my  Christmas  far 
away  in  Toronto,  with  such  bohemian  and  boon 
companions  as  could  be  found  in  that  cosmopol- 
itan and  kindly  city.  But  Leslie  Graeme  changed 
all  that,  for,  discovering  me  in  the  village  of 
Black  Rock,  with  my  traps  all  packed,  waiting 
for  the  stage  to  start  for  the  Landing,  thirty 
miles  away,  he  bore  down  upon  me  with  resist- 
less force,  and  I  found  myself  recovering  from  my 
surprise  only  after  we  had  gone  in  his  lumber 
sleigh  some  six  miles  on  our  way  to  his  camp  up 
in  the  mountains.    I  was  surprised  and  much 

9 


10  Black  Rock. 

delighted,  though  I  would  not  allow  him  to  think 
so,  to  find  that  his  old-time  power  over  me  was 
still  there.  lie  could  always  in  the  old  'varsity 
days — dear,  wild  days — make  me  do  what  he 
liked.  He  was  so  handsome  and  so  reckless,  bril- 
liant in  his  class  work,  and  the  prince  of  half- 
backs on  the  Rugby  field,  and  with  such  power 
of  fascination  as  would  "  extract  the  heart  out  of 
a  wheelbarrow,"  as  Barney  Lundy  used  to  say. 
And  thus  it  was  that  I  found  myself  just  three 
weeks  later — I  was  to  have  spent  two  or  three 
days — on  the  afternoon  of  December  24,  stand- 
ing in  Graeme's  Lumber  Camp  No.  2,  wondering 
at  myself.  But  I  did  not  regret  my  changed 
plans,  for  in  those  three  weeks  1  had  raided  a 
cinnamon  bear's  den  and  had  wakened  up  a  griz- 
zly      But   I   shall   let   the  grizzly  finish  the 

tale ;  he  probably  sees  more  humor  in  it  than  I. 
The  camp  stood  in  a  little  clearing,  and  con- 
sisted of  a  group  of  three  long,  low  shanties  with 
smaller  shacks  near  them,  all  built  of  heavy,  un- 
hewn logs,  with  door  and  window  in  each.  The 
grub  camp,  with  cook-shed  attached,  stood  in  the 
middle  of  the  clearing ;  at  a  little  distance  was 
the  sleeping  camp  with  the  office  built  against 
it,  and  about  a  hundred  yards  away  on  the  other 
side  of  the  clearing  stood  the  stables,  and  near 
them  the  smiddy.  The  mountains  rose  grandly  on 


Black  Rock.  ii 

every  side,  throwing  up  their  great  peaks  into 
the  sky.  The  clearing  in  which  the  camp  stood 
was  hewn  out  of  a  dense  pine  forest  that  filled 
the  valley  and  climbed  half  way  up  the  mountain 
sides  and  then  frayed  out  in  scattered  and 
stunted  trees. 

It  was  one  of  those  wonderful  Canadian  winter 
days,  bright,  and  with  a  touch  of  sharpness  in  the 
air  that  did  not  chill,  but  warmed  the  blood  like 
draughts  of  wine.  The  men  were  up  in  the 
Avoods,  and  the  shrill  scream  of  the  blueja;  flash- 
ing across  the  open,  the  impudent  chatter  of  the 
red  squirrel  from  the  top  of  the  grub  camp,  and 
the  pert  chirp  of  the  whisky-jack,  hopping  about 
on  the  rubbish-heap,  with  the  long,  lone  cry  of 
the  wolf  far  down  the  valley,  only  made  the 
silence  felt  the  more. 

As  I  stood  drinking  in  with  all  my  soul  the 
glorious  beauty  and  the  silence  of  mountain  and 
forest,  with  the  Christmas  feeling  stealing  into 
me,  Graeme  came  out  from  his  office,  and,  catch- 
ino-  siffht  of  me,  called  out :  "  Glorious  Christmas 
weather,  old  chap  !  "  And  then,  coming  nearer  : 
"  Must  you  go  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  I  fear  so,"  I  replied,  knowing  well  that  the 
Christmas  feeling  was  on  him  too. 

"  I  wish  I  were  going  with  you,"  he  said 
quietly. 


12  Black  Rock. 

I  turned  eagerly  to  persuade  hira,  but  at  the 
look  of  suffering  in  Jiis  face  the  words  died  at  my 
lips,  for  we  both  were  thinking  of  the  awful  night 
of  horror  when  all  his  bright,  brilliant  life  crashed 
down  about  him  in  black  ruin  and  shame.  I 
could  only  throw  loay  arm  over  his  shoulder  and 
stand  silent  beside  him.  A  sudden  jingle  of  bells 
roused  him,  and,  giving  himself  a  little  shake,  he 
exclaimed  :   "  There  are  the  boys  coming  home." 

Soon  the  camp  was  filled  with  men  talking, 
laughing,  chaffing  like  light-hearted  boys. 

"  They  are  a  little  wild  to-night,"  said  Graeme, 
"  and  to-morrow  they'll  paint  Black  Rock  red." 

Before  many  minutes  had  gone  the  last  team- 
ster was  "  washed  up,"  and  all  were  standing  about 
waiting  impatiently  for  the  cook's  signal — the 
supper  to-night  was  to  be  "  something  of  a  feed  " 
— when  the  sound  of  bells  drew  their  attention 
to  a  light  sleigh  drawn  by  a  buckskin  broncho 
coming  down  the  hillside  at  a  great  pace. 

"  The  preacher,  I'll  bet,  by  his  driving,"  said 
one  of  the  men. 

"  Bedad,  and  it's  him  has  the  foine  nose  for 
turkey !  "  said  Blaney,  a  good-natured,  jovial 
Irishman. 

"Yes,  or  for  pay-day,  more  like,"  said  Keefe,  a 
black-browed,  villainous  fellow-countryman  of 
Blaney's  and,  strange  to  say,  his  great  friend. 


Black  Rock.  13 

Big  Sandy  McNaughton,  a  Canadian  High- 
lander from  Glengarry,  rose  up  in  wrath. 

"  Bill  Keefe,"  said  he  with  deliberate  emphasis, 
"  you'll  just  keep  your  dirty  tongue  off  the  min- 
ister ;  and  as  for  your  pay,  it's  little  he  sees  of  it, 
or  any  one  else  except  Mike  Slavin,  when  you's 
too  dry  to  wait  for  some  one  to  treat  you,  or 
perhaps  Father  Ryan,  when  the  fear  of  hell-fire 
is  on  you." 

The  men  stood  amazed  at  Sandy's  sudden  anger 
and  length  of  speech. 

"  Bon.  Dat's  good  for  you,  my  bully  boy," 
said  Baptists,  a  wiry  little  French-Canadian, 
Sandy's  sworn  ally  and  devoted  admirer  ever 
since  the  day  when  the  big  Scotsman,  under  great 
provocation,  had  knocked  him  clean  off  the  dump 
into  the  river  and  then  jumped  in  for  him. 

It  was  not  till  afterward  I  learned  the  cause  of 
Sandy's  sudden  wrath  which  urged  him  to  such 
unwonted  length  of  speech.  It  was  not  simply 
that  the  Presbyterian  blood  carried  with  it  re- 
verence for  the  minister  and  contempt  for  Papists 
and  Fenians,  but  that  he  had  a  vivid  remem- 
brance of  how,  only  a  month  ago,  the  minister 
had  got  him  out  of  Mike  Slavin's  saloon  and  out 
of  the  clutches  of  Keefe  and  Slavin  and  their  gang 
of  blood-suckers. 

Keefe  started  up  with  a  curse.    Baptiste  sprang 


14  Black  Rock. 

to  Sandy's  side,  slapped  him  on  the  back,  and 
called  out: 

"  You  keel  him,  I'll  hit  [eat]  him  up,  me." 

It  looked  as  if  there  might  be  a  fight,  when  a 
harsh  voice  said  in  a  low,  savage  tone  : 

"  Stop  your  row,  you  blank  fools  ;  settle  it,  if 
you  want  to,  somewhere  else." 

I  turned,  and  was  amazed  to  see  old  man  Kel- 
son, who  was  very  seldom  moved  to  speech. 

There  was  a  look  of  scorn  on  his  hard,  iron- 
gray  face,  and  of  such  settled  fierceness  as  made 
mo  quite  believe  the  tales  I  had  heard  of  his 
deadly  fights  in  the  mines  at  the  coast.  Before 
any  reply  could  be  made  the  minister  drove  up 
and  called  out  in  a  cheery  voice  : 

"  Merry  Christmas,  boys !  Hello,  Sandy ! 
Cmnment  ga  va,  Baptiste  ?  How  do  you  do,  Mr. 
Graeme  ? " 

"  First  rate.  Let  me  introduce  my  friend,  Mr. 
Connor,  sometitne  medical  student,  now  artist, 
hunter,  and  tramp  at  large,  but  not  a  bad  sort." 

"  A  man  to  be  envied,"  said  the  minister,  smil- 
ing. "  I  am  glad  to  know  any  friend  of  Mr. 
Graeme's." 

I  liked  Mr.  Craig  from  the  first.  He  had  good 
eyes  that  looked  straight  out  at  you,  a  clean-cut, 
strong  face  well  set  on  his  shoulders,  and  alto- 
gether an  upstanding,  manly  bearing.    He  insisted 


Black  Rock.  15 

on  going  with  Sandy  to  the  stables  to  see  Dandy, 
his  broncho,  put  up. 

"  Decent  fellow,"  said  Graeme  ;  "  but  though 
he  is  good  enough  to  his  broncho,  it  is  Sandy 
that's  in  his  mind  now." 

"  Does  he  come  out  often  ?  I  mean,  are  you 
part  of  his  parish,  so  to  speak  ?  " 

'*  I  have  no  doubt  he  thinks  so ;  and  I'm  blowed 
if  he  doesn't  make  the  Presbyterians  of  us  think 
so  too."  And  he  added  after  a  pause  :  "  A  dandy 
lot  of  parishioners  we  are  for  any  man.  There's 
Sandy,  now,  he  would  knock  Keefe's  head  off  as 
a  kind  off  religious  exercise ;  but  to-morrow 
Keefe  will  be  sober  and  Sandy  will  be  drunk  as  a 
lord,  and  the  drunker  he  is  the  better  Presbyte- 
rian he'll  be,  to  the  preacher's  disgust."  Then 
after  another  pause  he  added  bitterly  :  "  But  it  is 
not  for  me  to  throw  rocks  at  Sandy.  I  am  not 
the  same  kind  of  fool,  but  I  am  a  fool  of  several 
other  sorts." 

Then  the  cook  came  out  and  beat  a  tattoo  on 
the  bottom  of  a  dish-pan.  Baptiste  answered  with 
a  yell.  But  though  keenly  hungry,  no  man 
would  demean  himself  to  do  other  than  walk  with 
apparent  reluctance  to  his  place  at  the  table.  At 
the  further  end  of  the  camp  was  a  big  fireplace, 
and  from  the  door  to  the  fireplace  extended  the 
long  board  tables,  covered  with  platters  of  turkey 


i6  Black  Rock. 

not  too  scientifically  carved,  dishes  of  potatoes 
bowls  of  apple  sauce,  plates  of  butter,  pies,  and 
smaller  dishes  distributed  at  regular  intervals. 
Two  lanterns  hanging  from  the  roof  and  a  row  of 
candles  stuck  into  the  wall  on  either  side  by 
means  of  slit  sticks  cast  a  dim,  weird  light  over 
the  scene. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  and  at  a  nod 
from  Graeme  Mr.  Craig  rose  and  said : 

"  I  don't  know  how  you  feel  about  it,  men,  but 
to  me  this  looks  good  enough  to  be  thankful  for." 

"  Fire  ahead,  sir,"  called  out  a  voice  quite  res- 
pectfully, and  the  minister  bent  his  head  and  said  : 

"  For  Christ  the  Lord  who  came  to  save  us,  for 
all  the  love  and  goodness  we  have  known,  and 
for  these  Thy  gifts  to  us  this  Christmas  night, 
our  Father,  make  us  thankful.     Amen." 

"  Bon.  Dat's  fuss  rate,"  said  Baptiste.  "  Seems 
lak  dat's  make  me  hit  [eat]  more  better  for  sure." 
And  then  no  word  was  spoken  for  a  quarter  of 
an  hour.  The  occasion  was  far  too  solemn  and 
moments  too  precious  for  anything  so  empty  as 
words.  But  when  the  white  piles  of  bread  and 
the  brown  piles  of  turkey  had  for  a  second  time 
vanished,  and  after  the  last  pie  had  disappeared, 
there  came  a  pause  and  a  hush  of  expectancy, 
whereupon  the  cook  and  cookee,  each  bearing 
aloft  a  huge,  blazing  pudding,  came  forth. 


Black  Rock.  17 

"  Hooray  !  "  yelled  Blaney  ;  ''  up  wid  yez  ! " 
and  grabbing  the  cook  by  the  shoulders  from  be- 
hind, he  faced  him  about. 

Mr.  Craig  was  tlie  first  to  respond,  and  seizing 
the  cookee  in  the  same  way  called  out :  "  Squad, 
fall  in  !  quick  march  !  "  In  a  moment  every  man 
was  in  the  procession. 

"  Strike  up,  Batchees,  ye  little  angel !  "  shouted 
Blaney,  the  appellation  a  concession  to  the  min- 
ister's presence ;  and  away  went  Baptiste  in  a 
rollicking  French  song  with  the  English  chorus — 

*'  Then  blow,  ye  winds,  in  the  morning, 
Blow,  ye  w^inds,  ay  oli ! 
Blow,  ye  winds,  in  the  morning, 
Blow,  blow,  blow." 

And  at  each  "  blow  "  every  boot  came  down 
with  a  thump  on  the  plank  floor  that  shook  the 
solid  roof.  After  the  second  round  Mr.  Craig 
jumped  upon  the  bench  and  called  out  : 

"  Three  cheers  for  Billy  the  cook  ! " 

In  the  silence  following  the  cheers  Baptiste 
was  heard  to  say  : 

"  Bo7i !  Dat's  mak  me  feel  lak  hit  dat  pud- 
din'  all  hup  raeself,  me." 

"  Hear  till  the  little  baste ! "  said  Blaney  in 
disgust. 

"  Batchees,"  remonstrated  Sandy  graveJy, 
"  ye've  more  stomach  than  manners." 


1 8  Black  Rock. 

'•Fu  sure!  but  de  more  storaach,  dat's  more 
better  for  dis  puddin',"  replied  the  little  French- 
man cheerfully. 

After  a  time  the  tables  were  cleared  and 
pushed  back  to  the  wall  and  pipes  were  produced. 
In  all  attitudes  suggestive  of  comfort  the  men 
disposed  themselves  in  a  wide  circle  about  the 
fire,  which  now  roared  and  crackled  up  the  great 
wooden  chimney  hanging  from  the  roof.  The 
lumberman's  hour  of  bliss  had  arrived.  Even  old 
man  Nelson  looked  a  shade  less  melancholy  than 
usual  as  he  sat  alone,  well  away  from  the  fire, 
smoking  steadily  and  silently.  When  the  second 
pipes  were  well  a-going  one  of  the  men  took 
down  a  violin  from  the  wall  and  handed  it  to 
Lachlan  Campbell.  There  were  two  brothers 
Campbell  just  out  from  Argyll,  typical  High- 
landers :  Lachlan,  dark,  silent,  melancholy,  with 
the  face  of  a  mystic,  and  Angus,  red-haired,  quick, 
impulsive,  and  devoted  to  his  brother,  a  devotion 
he  thought  proper  to  cover  under  biting,  sarcastic 
speech. 

Lachlan,  after  much  protestation,  interposed 
with  gibes  from  his  brother,  took  the  violin,  and 
in  response  to  the  call  from  all  sides  struck  up 
"  Lord  Macdonajd's  Eeel."  In  a  moment  the 
floor  was  filled  with  dancers,  whooping  and 
cracking    their    fingers  in  the  wildest    manner. 


Black  Rock.  19 

Then  Baptiste  did  the  "  Red  River  Jig,"  a  most 
intricate  and  difficult  series  of  steps,  the  men 
keeping  time  to  the  music  with  hands  and  feet. 

"When  the  jig  was  finished  Sandy  called  for 
"  Lochaber  l^o  More,"  but  Campbell  said  : 

"  No  !  no  !  I  cannot  play  that  to-night.  Mr. 
Craig  will  play." 

Craig  took  the  violin,  and  at  the  first  note  I 
knew  he  was  no  ordinary  player.  I  did  not  rec- 
ognize the  music,  but  it  was  soft  and  thrilling, 
and  got  in  by  the  heart  till  every  one  was  think- 
ing his  tenderest  and  saddest  thoughts. 

After  he  had  played  two  or  three  exquisite  bits 
he  gave  Campbell  his  violin,  saying,  "  Now, 
'  Lochaber,'  Lachlan." 

"Without  a  word  Lachlan  began,  not  "  Loch- 
aber " — he  Avas  not  ready  for  that  yet — but "  The 
Flowers  o'  the  Forest,"  and  from  that  wandered 
through  "  Auld  Robin  Gray  "  and  "  The  Land  o' 
the  Leal,"  and  so  got  at  last  to  that  most  soul- 
subduing  of  Scottish  laments,  "  Lochaber  "No 
More."  At  the  first  strain  his  brother,  who  had 
thrown  himself  on  some  blankets  behind  the  fire, 
turned  over  on  his  face  feigning  sleep.  Sandy 
M'jSTaughton  took  his  pipe  out  of  his  mouth  and 
sat  up  straight  and  stiff,  staring  into  vacancy,  and 
Graeme,  beyond  the  fire,  drew  a  short,  sharp  t 
breath.     We  had  often  sat,  Graeme  and  I,  in  our  \ 


20  Black  Rock. 

student  days,  in  the  drawing-room  at  home,  listen- 
ing to  his  father  wailing  out  "  Lochaber "  upon 
the  pipes,  and  I  well  knew  that  the  awful  minor 
strains  were  now  eating  their  way  into  his  soul. 

Over  and  over  again  the  Highlander  played  his 
lament.  He  had  long  since  forgotten  us,  and  was 
seeing  visions  of  the  hills  and  lochs  and  glens  of 
his  far-away  native  land,  and  making  us,  too,  see 
strange  things  out  of  the  dim  past.  I  glanced  at 
old  man  IS'elson,  and  was  startled  at  the  eager, 
almost  piteous  look  in  his  eyes,  and  I  wished 
Campbell  would  stop.  Mr.  Craig  caught  my  eye, 
and  stepping  over  to  Campbell  held  out  his  hand 
for  the  violin.  Lingeringly  and  lovingly  the 
Highlander  drew  out  the  last  strain  and  silently 
gave  the  minister  his  instrument. 

Without  a  moment's  pause,  and  while  the  spell 
of  "  Lochaber "  was  still  upon  us,  the  minister, 
with  exquisite  skill,  fell  into  the  refrain  of  that 
simple  and  beautiful  camp-meeting  hymn,  "  The 
Sweet  By-and-By."  After  playing  the  verse 
through  once  he  sang  softly  the  refrain.  After 
the  first  verse  the  men  joined  in  the  chorus ;  at 
first  timidly,  but  by  the  time  the  third  verse  was 
reached  they  were  shouting  with  throats  full  open, 
"  We  shall  meet  on  that  beautiful  shore."  When 
I  looked  at  Nelson  the  eager  light  had  gone  out 
of  his  eyes,  and  in  its  place  was  a  kind  of  deter 


Black  Rock.  ^i 

mined  hopelessness,  as  if  in  this  new  music  he  had 
no  part. 

After  the  voices  had  ceased  Mr.  Craig  played 
again  tiie  refrain,  more  and  more  softly  and 
slowly;  then  laying  the  violin  on  Campbell's  knees, 
he  drew  from  his  pocket  his  little  Bible  and  said: 

"  Men,  with  Mr.  Graeme's  permission  I  want 
to  read  you  something  this  Christmas  eve.  You 
will  all  have  heard  it  before,  but  you  will  like  it 
none  the  less  for  that." 

His  voice  was  soft,  but  clear  and  penetrating, 
as  he  read  the  eternal  story  of  the  angels  and  the 
shepherds  and  the  Babe.  And  as  he  read,  a  slight 
motion  of  the  hand  or  a  glance  of  an  eye  made  us 
see,  as  he  was  seeing,  that  whole  radiant  drama. 
The  wonder,  the  timid  joy,  the  tenderness,  the 
mystery  of  it  all,  were  borne  in  upon  us  with 
overpowering  effect.  He  closed  the  book,  and  in 
the  same  low,  clear  voide  went  on  to  tell  us  how, 
in  his  home  years  ago,  he  used  to  stand  on  Christ- 
mas eve  listening  in  thrilling  delight  to  his  mother 
telling  him  the  story,  and  how  she  used  to  make 
him  see  the  shepherds  and  hear  the  sheep  bleat- 
ing near  by,  and  how  the  sudden  burst  of  glory 
used  to  make  his  heart  jump. 

"  I  used  to  be  a  little  afraid  of  the  angels,  be- 
cause a  boy  told  me  tliey  were  ghosts ;  but  ray 
mother  told  me  better,  and  I  didn't  fear  them  any 


22  Black  Rock. 

more.  And  the  Baby,  the  dear  little  Baby — we 
all  love  a  baby,"  There  was  a  quick,  dry  sob ; 
it  was  from  Nelson.  "  I  used  to  peek  through 
under  to  see  the  little  one  in  the  straw,  and  wonder 
what  things  swaddling  clothes  were.  Oh,  it  was 
so  real  and  so  beautiful ! "  He  paused,  and  I 
could  hear  the  men  breathing. 

"  But  one  Christmas  eve,"  he  went  on  in  a 
lower,  sweeter  tone,  "  there  was  no  one  to  tell  me 
the  story,  and  I  grew  to  forget  it  and  went  away 
to  college,  and  learned  to  think  that  it  was  only 
a  child's  tale  and  was  not  for  men.  Then  bad 
days  came  to  me  and  worse,  and  I  began  to  lose 
my  grip  of  myself,  of  life,  of  hope,  of  goodness, 
till  one  black  Christmas,  in  the  slums  of  a  far- 
away  city,  when  I  had  given  up  all  and  the  devil's 
arms  were  about  me,  I  heard  the  story  again. 
And  as  I  listened,  with  a  bitter  ache  in  my  heart 
— for  I  had  put  it  all  behind  me — I  suddenly 
found  myself  peeking  under  the  shepherds'  arms 
with  a  child's  wonder  at  the  Baby  in  the  straw. 
Then  it  came  over  me  like  great  waves  that  His 
name  was  Jesus,  because  it  was  He  that  should 
save  men  from  their  sins.  Save !  Save  !  The 
waves  kept  beating  upon  my  ears,  and  before  I 
knew  I  had  called  out,  '  Oh  1  can  He  save  me  ? ' 
It  was  in  a  little  mission  meeting  on  one  of  the 
side  streets,  and  they  seemed  to  be  used  to  that 


Black  Rock.  23 

sort  of  thing  there,  for  no  one  was  surprised  ;  and 
ji  young  fellow  leaned  across  the  aisle  to  me  and 
said  :  '  Why,  you  just  bet  He  can  ! '  His  surprise 
that  I  should  doubt,  his  bright  face  and  confident 
tone,  gave  me  hope  that  perhaps  it  might  be  so. 
I  held  to  that  hope  with  all  my  soul,  and  " — 
stretching  up  his  arms,  and  with  a  quick  glow  in 
his  face  and  a  little  break  in  his  voice^ — "  He 
hasn't  failed  me  yet ;  not  once,  not  once  ! " 

He  stopped  quite  short,  and  I  felt  a  good  deal 
like  making  a  fool  of  mj'self,  for  in  those  days  I 
had  not  made  up  my  mind  about  these  things. 
Graeme,  poor  old  chap,  was  gazing  at  him  with  a 
sad  3^earning  in  his  dark  eyes  ;  big  Sandy  was  sit- 
ting very  stiff  and  staring  harder  than  ever  into 
the  fire  ;  Baptiste  w^as  trembling  with  excitement ; 
Blaney  was  openly  wiping  the  tears  away.  But 
the  face  that  held  my  eyes  was  that  of  old  man 
Nelson.  It  was  white,  fierce,  hungry-looking, 
his  sunken  eyes  burning,  his  lips  parted  as  if  to 
cry.     The  minister  went  on. 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  tell  you  this,  men  ;  it  all 
came  over  me  with  a  rush  ;  but  it  is  true,  every 
word,  and  not  a  word  will  1  take  back.  And, 
what's  more,  I  can  tell  3'-ou  this  :  what  He  did  for 
me  He  can  do  for  any  man,  and  it  doesn't  make 
any  difference  what's  behind  him,  and  " — leaning 
slightly  forward,  and  with  a  little  thrill  of  pathos 


24  Black  Rock. 

vibrating  in  his  voice — "  oh,  boys,  why  don't  yon 
give  Him  a  chance  at  you  ?  "Without  Hira  you'll 
never  be  the  men  you  want  to  be,  and  you'll 
never  get  the  better  of  that  that's  keeping  some 
of  you  now  from  going  back  home.  You  know 
you'll  never  go  back  till  you're  the  men  you  want 
to  be."  Then,  lifting  up  his  face  and  throwing 
back  his  head,  he  said,  as  if  to  himself,  "  Jesus ! 
He  shall  save  His  people  from  their  sins,"  and 
then,  "  Let  us  pray." 

Graeme  leaned  forward  with  his  face  in  his 
hands;  Baptiste  and  Blaney  dropped  on  their 
knees ;  Sandy,  the  Campbells,  and  some  others 
stood  up.  Old  man  Nelson  held  his  eye  steadily 
on  the  minister. 

Only  once  before  had  I  seen  that  look  on  a 
human  face.  A  young  fellow  had  broken  through 
the  ice  on  the  river  at  home,  and  as  the  black 
water  was  dragging  his  fingers  one  by  one  from 
the  slippery  edges,  there  came  over  his  face  that 
same  look.  I  used  to  wake  up  for  many  a  night 
after  in  a  sweat  of  horror,  seeing  the  white  face 
with  its  parting  lips  and  its  piteous,  dumb  appeal, 
and  the  black  water  slowly  sucking  it  down. 

Nelson's  face  brought  it  all  back  ;  but  during 
the  prayer  the  face  changed  and  seemed  to  settle 
into  resolve  of  some  sort,  stern,  almost  gloomy, 
as  of  a  man  with  his  last  chance  before  him. 


Black  Rock.  25 

After  the  prayer  Mr.  Craig  invited  the  men  to 
a  Christmas  dinner  next  day  in  Black  Rock. 
"  And  because  you  are  an  independent  lot, 
we'll  charge  you  half  a  dollar  for  dinner  and 
the  evening  show."  Then  leaving  a  bundle  of 
magazines  and  illustrated  papers  on  the  table — 
a  godsend  to  the  men — he  said  good-by  and 
■went  out. 

I  was  to  go  with  the  minister,  so  I  jumped  into 
the  sleigh  first  and  waited  while  he  said  good-by 
to  Graeme,  who  had  been  hard  hit  by  the  whole 
service  and  seemed  to  want  to  say  something.  I 
heard  Mr.  Craig  say  cheerfully  and  confidentially : 
"  It's  a  true  bill :  try  Him." 

Sandy,  v\^ho  had  been  steadying  Dandy  while 
that  interesting  broncho  was  attempting  with 
great  success  to  balance  himself  on  his  hind  legs, 
came  to  say  good-by. 

"  Come  and  see  me  first  thing,  Sandy." 

"  Aye !  I  know ;  I'll  see  ye,  Mr.  Craig,"  said 
Sandy  earnestly  as  Dandy  dashed  off  at  a  full 
gallop  across  the  clearing  and  over  the  bridge, 
steadying  down  when  he  reached  the  hill. 

«  Steady,  you  idiot ! " 

This  was  to  Dandy,  who  had  taken  a  sudden 
side  spring  into  the  deep  snow,  almost  upsetting 
us.  A  man  stepped  out  from  the  shadow.  It 
was  old  man  Nelson.     He  came  straight  to  tbc 


26  Black  Rock. 

sleigh  and,  ignoring  my  presence  completely, 
said  : 

"  Mr.  Craig,  are  you  dead  sure  of  this  ?  Will  it 
work  ? " 

"  Do  you  mean,"  said  Craig,  taking  him  up 
promptly,  "  can  Jesus  Christ  save  you  from  your 
sins  and  make  a  man  of  you  ?  " 

The  old  man  nodded,  keeping  his  hungry  eyes 
on  the  other's  face. 

"  Well,  here's  His  message  to  you  :  '  The  Son 
of  Man  is  come  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which 
was  lost.' " 

"  To  me  ?     To  me  ?  "  said  the  old  man  eagerly. 

"  Listen  ;  this,  too,  is  His  word :  '  Him  that 
coraeth  unto  Me  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out.' 
That's  for  you,  for  here  you  are,  coming." 

"  You  don't  know  me,  Mr.  Craig.  I  left  my 
baby  fifteen  years  ago  because " 

"  Stop !  "  said  the  minister.  "  Don't  tell  me, 
at  least  not  to-night ;  perhaps  never.  Tell  Him 
who  knows  it  all  now  and  who  never  betrays  a 
secret.  Have  it  out  with  Him.  Don't  be  afraid 
to  trust  Him," 

Nelson  looked  at  him,  with  his  face  quivering, 
and  said  in  a  husky  voice : 

"  If  this  is  no  good,  it's  hell  for  me." 

"  If  it  is  no  good,"  replied  Craig  almost  sternly. 
"  it's  hell  for  all  of  us." 


I  looked  back  and  saw  what  brought  a  himp  in  my  throat;  it  was  old  man 
Nelson  on  his  knees  in  the  snow,  witii  his  hands  spread  upward  to  the  stars.— 
P*ge  ?r.  Black  Rock. 


Black  Rock.  ^"J 

The  old  man  straightened  himself  up,  looked 
up  at  the  stars,  then  back  at  Mr.  Craig,  then  at 
me,  and  drawing  a  deep  breath  said  ; 

"  I'll  try  Him."  As  he  was  turning  away  the 
minister  touched  him  on  the  arm  and  said  quietly  : 

"  Keep  an  eye  on  Sandy  to-raorrow." 

Nelson  nodded  and  we  went  on ;  but  before  we 
took  the  next  turn  I  looked  back  and  saw  what 
brought  a  lump  into  my  throat.  It  was  old  man 
Nelson  on  his  knees  in  the  snow,  with  his  hands 
spread  upward  to  the  stars,  and  I  wondered  if 
there  was  any  One  above  the  stars  and  nearer 
than  the  stars  who  could  see.  And  then  the  trees 
hid  him  from  my  sight. 


28  Black  Rock. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  BLACK  BOCK  CHKISTMAS. 

Many  strange  Christmas  Days  have  I  seen, 
but  that  wild  Black  Kock  Christmas  stands  out 
strangest  of  all.  While  I  was  reveling  in  my  de- 
licious second  morning  sleep,  just  awake  enough 
to  enjoy  it,  Mr.  Craig  came  abruptlj^,  announcing 
breakfast  and  adding : 

"  Hope  you  are  in  good  shape,  for  we  have  our 
work  before  us  this  day." 

"  Hello !  "  I  replied,  still  half  asleep  and  anxious 
to  hide  from  the  minister  that  I  was  trying  to 
gain  a  few  more  moments  of  snoozing  delight, 
"  what's  abroad  ? " 

"The  devil,"  he  answered  shortly,  and  with 
such  emphasis  that  I  sat  bolt  upright,  looking 
anxiously  about. 

*'  Oh  !  no  need  for  alarm.  He's  not  after  you 
particularly- — at  least  not  to-day,"  said  Craig, 
with  a  shadow  of  a  smile.  "But  he  is  going 
about  in  good  style,  I  can  tell  you." 

By  this  time  I  was  quite  awake. 


Black  Rock.  29 

*'  Well,  what  particular  style  does  his  majesty 
affect  this  morning  ?  " 

lie  pulled  out  a  show-bill. 

"  Peculiarly  gaudy  and  effective,  is  it  not  ?  " 

The  items  announced  were  sufficiently  at- 
tractive. The  'Frisco  Opera  Company  were  to 
produce  the  "  screaming  farce,"  "  The  Gay  and 
Giddy  Dude  ;  "  after  which  there  was  to  be  a 
"  Grand  Ball,"  during  which  the  "  Kalifornia 
Female  Kickers  "  were  to  do  some  fancy  figures ; 
the  whole  to  be  followed  by  a  "  big  supper  "  with 
"  two  free  drinks  to  every  man  and  one  to  the 
lady,"  and  all  for  the  insignificant  sum  of  two 
dollars. 

"  Can't  you  go  one  better  ? "  I  said. 

He  looked  inquiringly  and  a  little  disgustedly 
at  me. 

"  What  can  you  do  against  free  drinks  and  a 
dance,  not  to  speak  of  the  '  High  Kickers  '? "  he 
groaned.  "  No  ! "  he  continued  ;  "  it's  a  clean 
beat  for  us  to-day.  The  miners  and  lumbermen 
will  have  in  their  pockets  ten  thousand  dollars, 
and  every  dollar  burning  a  hole ;  and  Slavin  and 
his  gang  will  get  most  of  it.  But,"  he  added, 
"  you  must  have  breakfast.  You'll  find  a  tub  in 
the  kitchen  ;  don't  be  afraid  to  splash.  It  is  the 
best  I  have  to  offer  you." 

The  tub  sounded   inviting,  and  before   many 


30  Black  Rock. 

minutes  had  passed  I  was  in  a  delightful  glow, 
the  effect  of  cold  water  and  a  rough  towel,  and 
that  consciousness  of  virtue  that  comes  to  a  man 
who  has  had  courage  to  face  his  cold  bath  on  a 
winter  morning. 

The  breakfast  was  laid  with  fine  taste.  A 
diminutive  pine  tree,  in  a  pot  hung  round  with 
wintergreen,  stood  in  the  center  of  the  table. 

"  Well,  now,  this  looks  good  ;  porridge,  beef- 
steak, potatoes,  toast,  and  marmalade." 

"  I  hope  you  will  enjoy  it  all." 

There  was  not  much  talk  over  our  meal.  Mr. 
Craig  was  evidently  preoccupied  and  as  blue  as 
his  politeness  would  allow  him.  Slavin's  victory 
weighed  upon  his  spirits.     Finally  he  burst  out : 

"  Look  here !  I  can't,  I  won't  stand  it ;  some- 
thing  must  be  done.  Last  Christmas  this  town 
was  for  two  weeks,  as  one  of  the  miners  said,  '  a 
little  suburb  of  hell.'  It  was  something  too  aw- 
ful. And  at  the  end  of  it  all  one  young  fellow 
was  found  dead  in  his  shack,  and  twenty  or  more 
crawled  back  to  the  camps,  leaving  their  three 
months'  pay  with  Slavin  and  his  suckers.  I  won't 
stand  it,  I  say."  He  turned  fiercely  on  me. 
"  What's  to  be  done  ? " 

This  rather  took  me  aback,  for  I  had  troubled 
myself  with  nothing  of  this  sort  in  my  life  before, 
being  fully  occupied  in  keeping  myself  out  of 


Black  Rock.  31 

difRculty  and  allowing  others  the  same  privilege. 
So  1  ventured  the  consolation  that  he  had  done 
Ills  part,  and  that  a  spree  more  or  less  would  not 
make  much  difference  to  these  men.  But  the 
next  moment  I  wished  I  had  been  slower  in 
speech,  for  he  swiftly  faced  me,  and  his  words 
came  like  a  torrent. 

"  God  forgive  you  that  heartless  word  !     Do 

you  know But  no;  you  don't  know  what 

you  are  saying.  You  don't  know  that  these  men 
have  been  clambering  for  dear  life  out  of  a  fear- 
ful pit  for  three  mouths  past,  and  doing  good 
climbing,  too,  poor  chaps.  You  don't  think  that 
some  of  them  have  wives,  most  of  them  mothers 
and  sisters,  in  the  East  or  across  the  sea,  for 
whose  sake  they  are  slaving  here;  the  miners 
hoping  to  save  enough  to  bring  their  families  to 
this  homeless  place,  the  rest  to  make  enough  to 
go  back  with  credit.  Why,  there's  Nixon,  miner, 
splendid  chap ;  has  been  here  for  two  years  and 
drawing  the  highest  pay.  Twice  he  has  been  in 
siglit  of  his  heaven,  for  he  can't  speak  of  his  wife 
and  babies  without  breaking  up,  and  twice  that 
slick  son  of  the  devil — that's  Scripture,  mind  you 
— Slavin,  got  him  and  'rolled'  him,  as  the  boys 
say.  He  went  back  to  the  mines  broken  in  body 
and  in  heart.  He  says  this  is  his  third  and  last 
chance.    If  Slavin  gets  him,  his  wife  and  babies 


32  Black  Rock. 

will  never  see  him  on  earth  or  in  heaven.  There 
is  Sandy,  too,  and  the  rest.  And,"  he  added  in 
a  lower  tone,  and  with  a  curious  little  thrill  of 
pathos  in  his  voice,  "  this  is  the  day  the  Saviour 
came  to  the  world."  He  paused,  and  then  with  a 
little  sad  smile  :  "  But  I  don't  want  to  abuse  you." 

"  Do.  I  enjoy  it.  I'm  a  beast,  a  selfish  beast," 
for  somehow  his  intense,  blazing  earnestness  made 
me  feel  uncomfortably  small.  "  What  have  we 
to  offer  ?  "  I  demanded, 

"  "Wait  till  I  have  got  these  things  cleared  away 
and  my  housekeeping  done." 

I  pressed  my  services  upon  him,  somewhat 
feebly,  I  own,  for  I  can't  bear  dish-water  ;  but  he 
rejected  my  offer. 

"  I  don't  like  trusting  my  china  to  the  hands  of 
a  tenderfoot." 

"  Quite  right,  though  your  china  would  prove 
an  excellent  means  of  defense  at  long  range." 

It  was  delf,  a  quarter  of  an  inch  thick.  So  I 
smoked  while  he  washed  up,  swept,  dusted,  and 
arranged  the  room. 

After  the  room  was  ordered  to  his  taste  we 
proceeded  to  hold  council.  He  could  offer  din- 
ner, magic  lantern,  music.  "  We  can  fill  in  time 
for  two  hours,  but,"  he  added  gloomily,  "  we  can't 
beat  the  dance  and  the  '  High  Kickers.'  " 

"  Have  you  nothing  new  or  startling  ? " 


Black  Rock.  33 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  No  kind  of  show  ?  Dog  show  ?  Snake 
charmer  ?  " 

"  Slavin  has  a  monopoly  of  the  snakes."  Then 
he  added  hesitatingly  :  "  There  was  an  old  Punch- 
and-Judy  chap  here  last  year,  but  he  died. 
"Whisky  again." 

"  What  happened  to  his  show  ?  " 

"  The  Black  Rock  Hotel  man  took  it  for  board 
and  whisky  bill.     He  has  it  still,  I  suppose." 

I  did  not  much  relish  the  business,  but  I  hated 
to  see  him  beaten,  so  I  ventured  : 

"  I  have  run  a  Punch-and-Judy  in  an  amateur 
way  at  the  'varsity." 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a  yell. 

"  You  have !  You  mean  to  say  it  ?  WeVe  got 
them!  We've  beaten  them!"  He  had  an  ex- 
traordinary way  of  taking  your  help  for  granted. 
"  The  miner  chaps,  mostl}'-  English  and  Welsh, 
went  mad  over  the  poor  old  showman,  and  made 
liim  so  wealthy  that  in  sheer  gratitude  he  drank 
himself  to  death." 

He  walked  up  and  down  in  high  excitement 
and  in  such  evident  delight  that  I  felt  pledged  to 
my  best  effort. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "first  the  poster.  We  must 
beat  them  in  that." 

He  brought  me  large  sheets  of  brown  paper, 
3 


34  Black  Rock. 

and  after  two  hours'  hard  work  I  had  half  a 
dozen  pictorial  show-bills  done  in  gorgeous  colors 
and  striking  designs.  They  were  good,  if  I  do 
say  it  myself. 

The  turkey,  the  magic  lantern,  the  Punch-and- 
Judy  show  were  all  there,  the  last  with  the  crowd 
before  it  in  gaping  delight.  A  few  explanatory 
words  were  thrown  in,  emphasizing  the  highly 
artistic  nature  of  the  Punch-and-Judy  entertain- 
ment. 

Craig  was  delighted,  and  proceeded  to  perfect 
his  plans.  He  had  some  half  a  dozen  young  men, 
four  young  ladies,  and  eight  or  ten  matrons  upon 
whom  he  could  depend  for  help.  These  he  or- 
ganized into  a  vigilance  committee  charged  with 
the  duty  of  preventing  miners  and  lumbermen 
from  getting  away  to  Slavin's. 

"  The  critical  moments  will  be  immediately  be- 
fore and  after  dinner,  and  then  again  after  the 
show  is  over,"  he  explained.  "  The  first  two 
crises  must  be  left  to  the  care  of  Punch  and  Judy, 
and  as  for  the  last,  I  am  not  yet  sure  what  shall 
be  done ; "  but  I  saw  he  had  something  in  his 
head,  for  he  added,  "  I  shall  see  Mrs.  Mavor." 

"  "Who  is  Mrs.  Mavor? "  I  asked. 

But  he  made  no  reply.  He  was  a  born  fighter, 
and  he  put  the  fighting  spirit  into  us  all.  "We 
were  bound  to  win. 


* 


Black  Rock.  35 

The  sports  were  to  begin  at  two  o'clock.  By 
lunch-time  everything  was  in  readiness.  After 
lunch  I  was  having  a  quiet  smoke  in  Craig's  shack 
when  in  he  rushed,  saying  : 

"The  battle  will  be  lost  before  it  is  fought. 
If  we  lose  Quatre  Bras  we  shall  never  get  to 
Waterloo." 

«  What's  up  ?  " 

"  Slavin,  just  now.  The  miners  are  coming  in, 
and  he  will  have  them  in  tow  in  half  an  hour." 

He  looked  at  me  appealingly.  I  knew  what  he 
wanted. 

"  All  right.  I  suppose  I  must,  but  it  is  an 
awful  bore  that  a  man  can't  have  a  quiet  smoke." 

"You're  not  half  a  bad  fellow,"  he  replied, 
smiling.  "  I  shall  get  the  ladies  to  furnish  coffee 
inside  the  booth.  You  furnish  them  intellectual 
nourishment  in  front  with  dear  old  Punch  and 
Judy." 

He  sent  a  boy  with  a  bell  round  the  village  an- 
nouncing, "  Punch  and  Judy  in  front  of  the  Christ- 
mas booth  beside  the  church  ; "  and  for  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  I  shrieked  and  sweated  in 
that  awful  little  pen.  But  it  was  almost  worth  it 
to  hear  the  shouts  of  approval  and  laughter  that 
greeted  ray  performance.  It  was  cold  work 
standing  about,  so  that  the  crowd  was  quite  ready 
to  respond  when  Punch,  after  being  duly  hanged. 


36  Black  Rock. 

came  forward  and  invited  all  into  the  booth  for 
the  hot  cotfee  which  Judy  had  ordered. 

la  they  trooped,  and  Quatre  Bras  "was  won. 

No  sooner  were  the  miners  safely  engaged  with 
their  coffee  than  I  heard  a  great  noise  of  bells 
and  of  men  shouting,  and  on  reaching  the  street 
I  saw  that  the  men  from  the  lumber  camp  were 
coming  in.  Two  immense  sleighs,  decorated  with 
ribbons  and  spruce  boughs,  each  drawn  by  a  four- 
horse  team  gaily  adorned,  filled  Avith  some  fifty 
men,  singing  and  shouting  with  all  their  might, 
were  coming  down  the  hill  road  at  full  gallop. 
Round  the  corner  they  swung,  dashed  at  full  speed 
across  the  bridge  and  down  the  street,  and  pulled 
up  after  they  had  made  the  circuit  of  a  block,  to 
the  great  admiration  of  the  on-lookers.  Among 
others  Slavin  sauntered  up  good-naturedly,  mak- 
ing himself  agreeable  to  Sandy  and  those  who 
were  helping  to  unhitch  his  team. 

"  Oh,  you  need  not  take  trouble  with  me  or  my 
team,  Mike  Slavin.  Batchees  and  me  and  the 
boys  can  look  after  them  fine,"  said  Sandy 
coolly. 

This  rejecting  of  hospitality  was  perfectly  un- 
derstood by  Slavin  and  by  all. 

"  Dat's  too  bad,  heh  ? "  said  Baptiste  wickedly  ; 
"  and  Sandy,  he's  got  good  money  on  his  pocket 
for  sure,  too." 


Black  Rock.  37 

The  boys  laughed,  and  Slavin,  joining  in,  turned 
away  with  Keefe  and  Blaney  ;  but  by  the  look 
in  his  eye  I  knew  he  was  playing  "  Br'er  Kabbit '' 
and  lying  low. 

Mr.  Craig  just  then  came  up, 

"  Hello,  boys  !  Too  late  for  Punch  and  Judy, 
but  just  in  time  for  hot  coffee  and  doughnuts." 

"  Bon.  Dat's  fuss  rate,"  said  Baptiste  heartily. 
"  Where  you  keep  him  ? " 

"  Up  in  the  tent  next  the  church  there.  The 
miners  are  all  in." 

"  Ah,  dat  so  ?  Dat's  bad  news  for  the  shanty- 
men,  heh,  Sandy?"  said  the  little  Frenchman 
dolefully. 

"  There  was  a  clothes-basket  full  of  doughnuts 
and  a  boiler  of  coffee  left  as  I  passed  just  now," 
said  Craig  encouragingly. 

"  AllonSy  mes  gargons.  Yite  !  Never  say  keel !  " 
cried  Baptiste  excitedly,  stripping  off  the  har- 
ness. 

But  Sandy  would  not  leave  the  horses  till  they 
were  carefully  rubbed  down,  blanketed,  and  fed, 
for  he  was  entered  for  the  four-horse  race  and  it 
behooved  him  to  do  his  best  to  win.  Besides,  he 
scorned  to  hurr}'^  himself  for  anything  so  unim- 
portant as  eating;  that  he  considered  hardly 
worthy  even  of  Baptiste.  Mr.  Craig  managed  to 
get  a  word  with  him  before  he  went  off,  and  I 


38  Black  Rock. 

saw  Sandy  solemnly  and  emphatically  shake  his 
head,  saying,  "  Ah!  we'll  beat  him  this  day,"  and 
I  gathered  that  he  was  added  to  the  vigilance 
committee. 

Old  man  Kelson  was  busy  with  his  own  team. 
He  turned  slowlv  at  Mr.  Craig's  ffreetins:,  "  How 
is  it,  Xelson  ? "  and  it  was  with  a  very  grave  voice 
he  answered  :  "  I  hardly  know,  sir  ;  but  I  am  not 
gone  yet,  though  it  seems  little  to  hold  to." 

"  All  you  want  for  a  grip  is  what  your  hand 
can  cover.  "What  would  you  have  ?  And  besides, 
do  you  know  why  you  are  not  gone  yet  ?  " 

The  old  man  waited,  looking  at  the  minister 
gravely. 

"  Because  He  hasn't  let  go  His  grip  of  you." 

"  How  do  you  know  He's  gripped  me  ? " 

"Now,  look  here,  Nelson,  do  you  want  to  quit 
this  thing  and  give  it  all  up  ?  " 

"  No  !  no !  For  Heaven's  sake,  no !  Why,  do 
you  think  I  have  lost  it  ? "  said  Nelson,  almost 
piteously. 

"  Well,  He's  keener  about  it  than  you  ;  and 
I'll  bet  you  haven't  thought  it  worth  while  to 
thank  Him." 

"  To  thank  Him,"  he  repeated,  almost  stupidly, 
"for " 

"  For  keeping  you  where  you  are  overnight," 
said  Mr.  Craig,  almost  sternly. 


Black  Rock.  39 

The  old  man  gazed  at  the  minister,  a  light 
growing  in  his  eyes. 

"  You're  right.     Thank  God,  you're  right." 

And  then  he  turned  quickly  away  and  went 
into  the  stable  behind  his  team.  It  was  a  minute 
before  he  came  out.  Over  his  face  was  a  trem- 
bling joy. 

"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you  to-day  ? "  he 
asked  humbly. 

"  Indeed  you  just  can,"  said  the  minister, 
taking  his  hand  and  shaking  it  very  warmly  ; 
and  then  he  told  him  Slavin's  program  and  ours. 

"  Sandy  is  all  right  till  after  his  race.  After 
that  is  his  time  of  danger,"  said  the  minister. 

"  I'll  stay  with  him,  sir,"  said  old  Nelson,  in 
the  tone  of  a  man  taking  a  covenant,  and  imme- 
diately set  off  for  the  coffee  tent. 

"  Here  comes  another  recruit  for  your  corps," 
I  said,  pointing  to  Leslie  Graeme,  who  was  com- 
ing down  the  street  at  that  moment  in  his  light 
sleigh. 

"  I  am  not  so  sure.  Do  you  think  you  could 
get  him  ?  " 

I  laughed. 

"  You  are  a  good  one." 

"  Well,"  he  replied  half  defiantly,  "  is  not  this 
your  fight  too  ?  " 

"You  make  me  think  so,  though  I  am  bourn; 


40  Black  Rock. 

say  I  hardly  recognize  myself  to-day.  But  here 
goes,"  and  before  I  kne^Y  it  I  was  describing  our 
plans  to  Graeme,  growing  more  and  more  en- 
thusiastic as  he  sat  in  his  sleigh,  listening  with  a 
quizzical  smile  I  didn't  quite  like. 

"  He's  got  you  too,"  he  said.     "  I  feared  so." 

"  Well,"  I  laughed,  "  perhaps  so.  But  I  want 
to  lick  that  man  Slavin.  I've  just  seen  him,  and 
he's  just  what  Craig  calls  him, '  a  slick  son  of  the 
devil.'  Don't  be  shocked;  he  says  it  is  Scrip- 
ture." 

"  Revised  version,"  said  Graeme  gravely,  while 
Craig  looked  a  little  abashed. 

"  What  is  assigned  me,  Mr.  Craig  ?  for  I  know 
that  this  man  is  simply  your  agent." 

I  repudiated  the  idea,  while  Mr.  Craig  said 
nothing. 

"  What's  my  part  ?  "  demanded  Graeme. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Craig  hesitatingly,  "  of  course 
I  would  do  nothing  till  I  had  consulted  you  ;  but 
1  want  a  man  to  take  my  place  at  the  sports.  I 
am  referee." 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  Graeme,  with  an  air  of 
relief.     "  I  expected  something  hard." 

"  And  then  I  thought  you  would  not  mind  pre- 
siding at  dinner — I  want  it  to  go  off  well." 

"  Did  you  notice  that  ? "  said  Graeme  to  mo. 
"Not  a  bad  touch,  eh?" 


Black  Rock,  41 

"  That's  nothing  to  the  way  he  touched  me. 
Wait  and  learn,"  I  answered,  while  Craig  looked 
quite  distressed.  "  He'll  do  it,  Mr.  Craig,  never 
fear,"  I  said, "  and  any  other  little  duty  that  may 
occur  to  you." 

"Now,  that's  too  bad  of  you.  That  is  all  ] 
want,  honor  bright,"  he  replied  ;  adding  as  he 
turned  away  :  "  You  are  just  in  time  for  a  cup  of 
coffee,  Mr.  Graeme.  Now  I  must  see  Mrs. 
Mavor." 

"  "Who  is  Mrs.  Mavor  ? "  I  demanded  of 
Graeme. 

"  Mrs.  Mavor  ?     The  miners'  guardian  angel." 

We  put  up  the  horses  and  set  off  for  coffee. 
As  we  approached  the  booth  Graeme  caught  sight 
of  the  Punch-and- Judy  show,  stood  still  in  amaze- 
ment, and  exclaimed :  "  Can  the  dead  live  ?  " 

"  Punch  and  Judy  never  die,"  I  replied  sol- 
emnly. 

"  But  the  old  manipulator  is  dead  enough,  poor 
old  beggar ! " 

"  But  he  left  his  mantle,  as  you  see." 

He  looked  at  me  a  moment. 

"  What !     Do  you  mean  you " 

"  Yes,  that  is  exactly  what  I  do  mean." 

"  He  is  a  great  man,  that  Craig  fellow — a  truly 
great  man."  And  then  he  leaned  up  against  a 
tree  and   laughed   till  the  tears  came.     "  I  say 


42  Black  Rock. 

old  boy,  don't  mind  me,"  he  gasped,  "  but  do  you 
remember  the  old  'varsity  show  ? " 

"  Yes,  you  villain ;  and  I  remember  your  part 
in  it.  I  vs^onder  how  you  can,  even  at  this  re- 
mote date,  laugh  at  it." 

For  I  had  a  vivid  recollection  of  how,  after  a 
"chaste  and  high  artistic  performance  of  this 
medieval  play  "  had  been  given  before  a  distin- 
guished Toronto  audience,  the  trap-door  by  which 
I  had  entered  my  box  was  fastened,  and  I  was 
left  to  swelter  in  my  cage  and  forced  to  listen  to 
the  suffocated  laughter  from  the  wings  and  the 
stage  whispers  of  "  Hello,  Mr.  Punch,  where's  the 
baby  ? "  And  lor  many  a  day  after  I  was  sub- 
jected to  anxious  inquiries  as  to  the  locality  and 
health  of  "  the  baby,"  and  whether  it  was  able 
to  be  out. 

"  Oh,  the  dear  old  days !  "  he  kept  saying,  over 
and  over,  in  a  tone  so  full  of  sadness  that  my 
heart  grew  sore  for  him  and  I  forgave  him,  as 
many  a  time  before. 

The  sports  passed  off  in  typical  "Western  style. 
In  addition  to  the  usual  running  and  leaping 
contests,  there  was  rifle  and  pistol  shooting,  in 
both  of  which  old  Nelson  stood  first,  with  Shaw, 
foreman  of  the  mines,  second. 

The  great  event  of  the  da}^,  however,  was  to 
be  the  four-horse  race,  for  which  three  teams  we:- 


Black  Rock.  43 

entered — one  from  the  mines  driven  by  Nixon, 
Craig's  friend,  a  citizens'  team,  and  Sandy's.  Tlie 
race  was  really  between  the  miners'  team  and 
that  from  the  woods,  for  the  citizens'  team,  though 
made  up  of  speed}'^  horses,  had  not  been  driven 
much  together  and  knew  neither  their  driver  nor 
each  other.  In  the  miners' team  were  four  bays, 
very  powerful,  a  trifle  heavy  perhaps,  but  well 
matched,  perfectlj''  trained,  and  perfectly  handled 
by  their  driver,  Sandy  had  his  long,  rangy  roans, 
and  for  leaders  a  pair  of  half-broken  pinto  bron- 
chos. The  pintos,  caught  the  summer  before 
upon  the  Alberta  prairies,  were  fleet  as  deer,  but 
wicked  and  uncertain.  They  w^ere  Baptiste's 
special  care  and  pride.  If  they  would  only  run 
straight  there  was  little  doubt  that  thev  would 
carry  the  roans  and  themselves  to  glory  ;  but  one 
could  not  tell  the  moment  they  might  bolt  or 
kick  things  to  pieces. 

Being  the  only  non-partisan  in  the  crowd,  I  was 
asked  to  referee.  The  race  was  about  half  a  mile 
and  return,  the  first  and  last  quarters  being  upon 
the  ice.  The  course,  after  leaving  the  ice,  led  up 
from  the  river  by  a  long,  easy  slope  to  the  level 
above,  and  at  the  further  end  curved  somewhat 
sharply  round  the  old  fort.  The  only  condition 
attaching  to  the  race  was  that  the  teams  should 
start  from  the  scratch,  make  the  turn  of  the  fort, 


44  Black  Rock. 

and  finish  at  the  scratch.  There  were  no  vexing 
regulations  as  to  fouls.  The  man  making  the 
foul  would  find  it  necessary  to  reckon  with  the 
crowd,  which  was  considered  sufficient  guarantee 
for  a  fair  and  square  race.  Owing  to  the  hazards 
of  the  course,  the  result  would  depend  upon  the 
skill  of  drivers  quite  as  much  as  upon  the  speed 
of  the  teams.  The  points  of  hazard  were  at  the 
turn  round  the  old  fort  and  at  a  little  ravine 
which  led  down  to  the  river,  over  which  the  road 
passed  by  means  of  a  long  log  bridge  or  cause- 
way. 

From  a  point  upon  the  high  bank  of  the  river 
the  whole  course  lay  in  open  view.  It  was  a  scene 
full  of  life  and  vividly  picturesque.  There  were 
miners  in  dark  clothes  and  peak  caps  ;  citizens  in 
ordinary  garb  ;  ranchmen  in  wide  cowboy  hats 
and  buckskin  shirts  and  leggings,  some  with  car- 
tridge-belts and  pistols  ;  a  few  half-breeds  and  In- 
dians in  half-native,  half-civilized  dress  ;  and  scat- 
tering through  the  crowd  the  lumbermen  with 
gay  scarlet  and  blue  blanket  coats,  and  some  with 
knitted  toques  of  the  same  colors.  A  very  good, 
natured  but  extremely  uncertain  crowd  it  was. 
At  the  head  of  each  horse  stood  a  man,  but  at 
the  pintos'  heads  Baptiste  stood  alone,  trying  to 
hold  down  the  off  leader,  thrown  into  a  frenzy  o.i 
fear  by  the  yelling  of  the  crowd. 


Black  Rock.  45 

Gradually  all  became  quiet,  till,  in  the  midst  of 
absolute  stillness,  came  the  words,  "Are  you 
ready  ? "  then  the  pistol-shot,  and  the  great  race 
had  begun.  Above  the  roar  of  the  crowd  came 
the  shrill  cry  of  Baptiste  as  he  struck  his  broncho 
with  the  palm  of  his  hand  and  swung  himself 
into  the  sleigh  beside  Sandy  as  it  shot  past. 

Like  a  flash  the  bronchos  sprang  to  the  front, 
two  lengths  before  the  other  teams ;  but,  terrified 
by  the  yelling  of  the  crowd,  instead  of  bending 
to  the  left  bank,  up  which  the  road  wound,  they 
wheeled  to  the  right  and  were  almost  across  the 
river  before  Sandy  could  swing  them  back  into 
the  course. 

Baptiste's  cries,  a  curious  mixture  of  French 
and  English,  continued  to  strike  through  all  other 
sounds  till  they  gained  the  top  of  the  slope,  to 
find  the  others  almost  a  hundred  yards  in  front, 
the  citizens'  team  leading,  with  the  miners'  fol- 
lowing close.  The  moment  the  pintos  caught 
sight  of  the  teams  before  them  they  set  off  at  a 
terrific  pace  and  steadily  devoured  the  intervening 
space.  Nearer  and  nearer  the  turn  came,  the 
eight  horses  in  front,  running  straight  and  well 
within  their  speed.  After  them  flew  the  pintos, 
running  savagely  with  ears  set  back,  leading  well 
the  big  roans,  thundering  along  and  gaining  v/ 
every  bound.    And  now  the  citizens'  team  iiU' 


46  Black  Rock, 

almost  reached  the  fort,  running  hard  and  draw- 
ing away  from  the  bays.  But  Kixon  knew  what 
he  was  about,  and  was  simply  steadying  his  team 
for  the  turn.  The  event  proved  his  wisdom,  for 
in  the  turn  the  leading  team  left  the  track,  lost 
for  a  moment  or  two  in  the  deep  snow,  and  before 
they  could  regain  the  road  the  bays  had  swept 
superbly  past,  leaving  their  rivals  to  follow  in  the 
rear.  On  came  the  pintos,  swiftly  nearing  the 
fort.  Surely  at  that  pace  they  cannot  make  the 
turn.  But  Sandy  knows  his  leaders.  They  have 
their  eyes  upon  the  teams  in  front  and  need  no 
touch  of  rein.  Without  the  slightest  change  in 
speed  the  nimble-footed  bronchos  round  the  turn, 
hauling  the  big  roans  after  them,  and  fall  in  behind 
the  citizens'  team,  which  is  regaining  steadily  the 
ground  lost  in  the  turn. 

And  now  the  struggle  is  for  the  bridge  over  the 
ravine.  The  bays  in  front,  running  with  mouths 
wide  open,  are  evidently  doing  their  best ;  behind 
them,  and  every  moment  nearing  them,  but  at 
the  limit  of  their  speed,  too,  came  the  lighter  and 
fleeter  citizens'  team  ;  while  opposite  their  driver 
are  the  pintos,  pulling  hard,  eager  and  fresh. 
Their  temper  is  too  uncertain  to  send  them  to 
the  front ;  they  run  well  following,  but  when 
leading  cannot  be  trusted,  and  besides,  a  broncho 
hates  a  bridge ;  so  Sandy  holds  them  where  they 


Black  Rock,  47 

are,  waiting  and  hoping  for  his  chance  after  the 
bridge  is  crossed.  Foot  by  foot  the  citizens'  team 
creep  up  upon  the  flank  of  the  bays,  with  the 
pintos  in  turn  hugging  them  closely,  till  it  seems 
as  if  the  three,  if  none  slackens,  must  strike  the 
bridge  together  ;  and  this  will  mean  destruction 
to  one  at  least.  This  danger  Sandy  perceives, 
but  he  dare  not  check  his  leaders.  Suddenly, 
within  a  few  yards  of  the  bridge,  Baptiste  throws 
himself  upon  the  lines,  wrenches  them  out  of 
Sandy's  hands,  and  with  a  quick  swing  faces  the 
pintos  down  the  steep  side  of  the  ravine,  which 
is  almost  sheer  ice  with  a  thin  coat  of  snow.  It 
is  a  daring  course  to  take,  for  the  ravine,  though 
not  deep,  is  full  of  undergrowth  and  is  partially 
closed  up  by  a  brush-heap  at  the  further  end. 
But  with  a  yell  Baptiste  hurls  his  four  horses  down 
the  slope  and  into  the  undergrowth.  '■^ AUons, 
rnes  enfants  !  Courage  !  Vite  !  vite  !  "  cries  the 
driver,  and  nobly  do  the  pintos  I'espond.  Regard- 
less of  bushes  and  brush-heaps,  they  tear  their 
way  through  ;  but  as  they  emerge  the  hind  bob- 
sleigh catches  a  root,  and  with  a  crasli  the  sleigh 
is  hurled  high  in  the  air.  Baptiste's  cries  ring 
out  high  and  shrill  as  ever,  encouraging  his  team, 
and  never  cease  till,  with  a  plunge  and  a  scramble, 
they  clear  the  brush-heap  h'ing  at  the  mouth  of 
the  ravine  and  are  out  ou  the  ice  on  the  river. 


48  Black  Rock. 

witli  Baptiste  standing  on  the  front  bob,  the 
box  trailing  behind,  and  Sandy  nowhere  to  be 
seen. 

Three  hundred  yards  of  the  course  remain. 
The  bays,  perfectly  handled,  have  gained  at  the 
bridge  and  in  the  descent  to  the  ice,  and  are  leading 
the  citizens'  team  by  half  a  dozen  sleigh-lengths. 
Behind  both  comes  Baptiste.  It  is  now  or  never 
for  the  pintos.  The  rattle  of  the  trailing  box,  to- 
gether with  the  wild  yelling  of  the  crowd  rushing 
down  the  bank,  excites  the  bronchos  to  madness, 
and  taking  the  bits  in  their  teeth  they  do  their 
first  free  running  that  day.  Past  the  citizens' 
team  like  a  whirlwind  they  dash,  clear  the  in- 
tervening  space,  and  gain  the  flanks  of  the  bays. 
Can  the  bays  hold  them  ?  Over  them  leans  their 
driver,  plying  for  the  first  time  the  hissing  lash. 
Only  fifty  yards  more.  The  miners  begin  to  yell. 
But  Baptiste,  waving  his  lines  high  in  one  hand, 
seizes  his  toque  with  the  other,  whirls  it  about  his 
head,  and  flings  it  with  a  fiercer  yell  than  ever  at 
the  bronchos.  Like  the  bursting  of  a  hurricane 
the  pintos  leap  forward,  and  with  a  splendid  rush 
cross  the  scratch,  winners  by  their  own  lengths. 

There  was  a  wild  quarter  of  an  hour.  The 
shantymen  had  torn  off  their  coats  and  were 
waving  them  wildly  and  tossing  them  high,  while 
tho  ranchers  added  to  the  uproar  by  emptying 


Black  Rock.  40 

their  revolvers  into  the  air  in  a  way  that  made 
one  nervous. 

When  the  crowd  was  somewhat  quieted  Sandy's 
stiff  figure  appeared,  slowly  making  toward  them. 
A  dozen  lumbermen  ran  to  him,  eagerly  inquiring 
if  he  were  hurt.  But  Sandy  could  only  curse  the 
little  Frenchman  for  losing  the  race. 

"  Lost !  "Why,  man,  we've  won  it !  "  shouted  a 
voice,  at  which  Sandy's  rage  vanished,  and  he 
allowed  himself  to  be  carried  in  upon  the  shoul- 
ders of  his  admirers. 

"  Where's  the  lad  ? "  was  his  first  question. 

"  The  bronchos  are  off  with  him.  He's  down 
at  the  rapids  like  enough." 

"  Let  me  go ! "  shouted  Sandy,  setting  off  at  a 
run  in  the  track  of  the  sleigh.  He  had  not  gone 
far  before  he  met  Baptiste  coming  back  with  his 
team  foaming,  the  roans  going  quietly,  but  the 
bronchos  dancing  and  eager  to  be  at  it  again. 

"  Voild !  Bully  boy !  Tank  the  Ion  Dieu, 
Sandy.  You  not  keel,  heh  ?  Ah !  you  are  one 
grand  chevalier,"  exclaimed  Baptiste,  hauling 
Sandy  in  and  thrusting  the  lines  into  his  hands. 
And  so  thcv  came  back,  the  sleigh  box  still  drag- 
ging behind,  the  pintos  executing  fantastic  figures 
on  their  hind-legs,  and  Sandy  holding  them  down. 
The  little  Frenchman  struck  a  dramatic  attitude 
and  called  out : 
4 


So  Black  Rock. 

"  Yoild!  What's  the  matter  wiz  Sandy, 
hell?" 

The  roar  that  answered  set  the  bronchos  ofl 
again  plunging  and  kicking,  and  only  when  Bap- 
tiste  got  them  by  the  heads  could  they  be  induced 
to  stand  long  enough  to  allow  Sandy  to  be  pro- 
claimed winner  of  the  race.  Several  of  the  lum- 
bermen sprang  into  the  sleigh  box  with  Sandy 
and  Baptiste,  among  them  Keefe,  followed  by 
Nelson,  and  the  first  part  of  the  great  day  was 
over.  Slavin  could  not  understand  the  ncAV  order 
of  things.  That  a  great  event  like  the  four-horse 
race  should  not  be  followed  by  "  drinks  all  around  " 
was  to  him  at  once  disgusting  and  incomprehen- 
sible ;  and  realizing  his  defeat  for  the  moment,  he 
fell  into  the  crowd  and  disappeared.  But  he  left 
behind  him  his  "  runners."  He  had  not  yet 
thrown  up  the  game. 

Mr.  Craig  meantime  came  to  me,  and  looking 
anxiously  after  Sandy  in  his  sleigh,  with  his  fran- 
tic crowd  of  yelling  admirers,  said  in  a  gloomy 
voice : 

"  Poor  Sandy !  He  is  easily  caught,  and  Keefe 
has  the  devil's  cunning." 

"He  won't  touch  Slavin's  whisky  to-day,"  I 
answered  confidently. 

"  There'll  be  twenty  bottles  waiting  him  in  the 
stable,"  he  replied  bitterly,  "  and  I  can't  go  fol- 


Black  Rock.  51 

lowing  him  up.     He  won't  stand  that — no  man 
would.     God  help  us  all." 

I  could  hardly  recognize  myself,  for  I  found  in 
my  heart  an  earnest  echo  to  that  prayer  as  I 
watched  him  go  toward  the  crowd  again,  his  face 
set  in  strong  determination.  He  looked  like  the 
captain  of  a  forlorn  hope,  and  I  was  proud  to  be 
following  him. 


52  Black  Rock. 


CHAPTER  III? 

WATEELOO.      OUR   FIGHT HIS   VICTOKY. 

The  sjx)rts  were  over,  and  there  remained  still 
an  hour  to  be  filled  in  before  dinner.  It  was  an 
hour  full  of  danger  to  Craig's  hopes  of  victory, 
for  the  men  were  wild  with  excitement  and  ready 
for  the  most  reckless  means  of  "slinging  their 
dust."  I  could  not  but  admire  the  skill  with 
which  Mr.  Craig  caught  their  attention. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  called  out,  "  we've  forgotten 
the  judge  of  the  great  race.  Three  cheers  for 
Mr.  Connor !  " 

Two  of  the  shantymen  picked  me  up  and  hoist-_ 
ed  me  on  their  shoulders  while  the  cheers  were 
given. 

"  Announce  the  Punch  and  Judy,"  he  en- 
treated me  in  a  low  voice.  I  did  so  in  a  little 
speech,  and  was  forthwith  borne  aloft,  through 
the  street  to  the  booth,  followed  by  the  whole 
crowd,  cheering  like  mad. 

The  excitement  of  the  crowd  caught  me,  and 
for  an  hour  I  squeaked  and  worked  the  wires  of 


Black  Rock.  53 

the  immortal  and  unhappy  family  in  a  manner 
hitherto  unapproached — by  me  at  least.  I  was 
glad  enough  when  Graeme  came  to  me  to  send 
the  men  in  to  dinner.  This  Mr.  Punch  did  in  the 
most  gracious  manner,  and  again  with  cheers  for 
Punch's  master  they  trooped  tumultuously  into 
the  tent. 

We  had  only  well  begun  when  Baptiste  came 
in  quietly  but  hurriedly  and  whispered  to  me : 

*'  M'sieu  Craig,  he's  gone  to  Slavin's,  and  would 
lak  you  and  M'sieu  Graeme  would  follow  queek. 
Sandy  he's  take  one  leel  drink  up  at  the  stable, 
and  he's  go  mad  lak  one  diabler 

I  sent  him  for  Graeme,  who  was  presiding  at 
dinner,  and  set  off  for  Slavin's  at  a  run.  There  I 
found  Mr.  Craig  and  Nelson  holding  Sandy,  more 
than  half  drunk,  back  from  Slavin,  who,  stripped 
to  the  shirt,  was  coolly  waiting  with  a  taunting 
smile. 

"Let  me  go,  Mr.  Craig,"  Sandy  was  saying. 
"  I  am  a  good  Presbyterian.  He  is  a  Papist  thief 
and  he  has  my  money,  and  I  will  have  it  out  of 
the  soul  of  him." 

"  Let  him  go,  preacher,"  sneered  Slavin.  "  I'll 
cool  him  off  for  yez.  But  ye'd  better  hold  him  if 
yez  wants  his  mug  left  on  to  him." 

"  Let  him  go !  "  Keefe  was  shouting. 

**  Hands  off  1 "  Blaney  was  echoing. 


54  Black  Rock. 

I  pushed  my  way  in. 

"  What's  up  ?  "  I  cried. 

"  Mr.  Connor,"  said  Sandy  solemnly,  "  it  is  a 
gentleman  you  are,  though  your  name  is  against 
you,  and  I  am  a  good  Presbyterian,  and  I  can 
give  3^ou  the  Commandments  and  Reasons  an- 
nexed to  them  ;  but  yon's  a  thief,  a  Papist  thief, 
and  I  am  justified  in  getting  my  money  out  of 
his  soul." 

"But,"  I  remonstrated,  ''  you  won't  get  it  in 
this  way." 

"  He  has  my  money,''  reiterated  Sandy. 

"He  is  a  blank  liar,  and  he's  afraid  to  take 
it  up,"  said  Slavin  in  a  low,  cool  tone. 

"With  d,  roar  Sandy  broke  away  and  rushed  at 
him ;  but,  without  moving  from  his  track,  Slavin 
met  him  with  a  straight  left-hander  and  laid  him 
flat. 

"  Hooray ! "  yelled  Blaney.  "  Ireland  forever ! " 
and,  seizing  the  iron  poker,  swung  it  around  his 
head,  crying :  "  Bade,  or  by  the  holy  Moses  I'll 
kill  the  first  man  that  interferes  wid  the  game." 

"  Give  it  to  him !  "  Keefe  said  savagely. 

Sandy  rose  slowly,  gazing  round  stupidl7. 

"  He  don't  know  what  hit  him,"  laughed  Keefe. 

This  roused  the  Highlander,  and  saying,  "I'll 
settle  you  afterward,  Mr.  Keefe,"  he  rushed  in 
again  at  Slavin.     Again  Slavin  met  him  with  his 


Black  Rock.  55 

left,  staggered  him,  and  before  he  fell  took  a  step 
forward  and  delivered  a  terrific  right-hand  blow 
on  his  jaw.  Poor  Sandy  went  down  in  a  heap 
amid  the  yells  of  Blaney,  Keefe,  and  some  others 
of  the  gang.  I  was  in  despair  when  in  came  Bap- 
tiste  and  Graeme. 

One  look  at  Sandy,  and  Baptiste  tore  off  his 
coat  and  cap,  slammed  them  on  the  floor,  danced 
on  them,  and  with  a  long-drawn  "  Sajp-r-r-r-rie  !  " 
rushed  at  Slavin.  But  Graeme  caught  him  by 
the  back  of  the  neck,  saying,  "Hold  on,  little 
man,"  and  turning  to  Slavin  pointed  to  Sandy, 
who  was  reviving  under  isTelson's  care,  and  said  : 
"  What's  this  for  ? " 

"  Ask  him,"  said  Slavin  insolently.  "  He  knows." 

"  What  is  it,  Kelson  ?  " 

Kelson  explained  that  Sandy,  after  drinking 
some  at  the  stable  and  a  glass  at  the  Black  Eock 
Hotel,  had  come  down  here  with  Keefe  and  the 
others,  had  lost  his  money,  and  was  accusing 
Slavin  of  robbing  him. 

"  Did  you  furnish  him  with  liquor  % "  said 
Graeme  sternly. 

"  It  is  none  of  your  business,"  replied  Slavin 
with  an  oath. 

"  I  shall  make  it  my  business.  It  is  not  the 
first  time  my  men  have  lost  money  in  this 
saloon." 


56  Black  Rock. 

"  You  lie  ! "  said  Slavin  with  deliberate  em- 
phasis. 

"  Slavin,"  said  Graeme  quietly,  "  it  is  a  pity 
you  said  that,  because  unless  you  apologize  in  one 
minute  I  shall  make  you  sorry." 

"  Apologize  ?  "  roared  Slavin.  "  Apologize  to 
you  ?  "  calling  him  a  vile  name. 

Graeme  grew  white  and  said  even  more  slowly  : 

"  Kow  you'll  have  to  take  it ;  no  apology  will 
do." 

He  slowly  stripped  off  coat  and  vest.  Mr.  Craig 
interposed,  begging  Graeme  to  let  the  matter 
pass. 

"  Surely  he  is  not  worth  it." 

"  Mr,  Craig,"  said  Graeme  with  an  easy  smile, 
"  you  don't  understand.  Ko  man  can  call  me  that 
name  and  walk  around  afterward  feeling  well." 

Then,  turning  to  Slavin,  he  said  : 

"  Now,  if  you  want  a  minute's  rest,  I  can  wait." 

Slavin,   with  a  curse,  bade  him  come. 

"  Blaney,"  said  Graeme  sharply,  "  you  get 
back.''  Blaney  promptly  stepped  back  to  Keefe's 
side.  "  Nelson,  you  and  Baptiste  can  see  that 
they  stay  there."  The  old  man  nodded  and 
looked  at  Craig,  who  simply  said  :  "  Do  the  best 
you  can." 

It  was  a  good  fight.  Slavin  had  plenty  of  pluck 
and  for  a  time  forced  the  fighting,  Graeme  guard 
ing  easily  and  tapping  him  aggravatingly  about 


Black  Rock.  57 

the  nose  and  eyes,  drawing  blood,  but  not  disabling 
him.  Gradually  there  came  a  look  of  fear  into 
Slavin's  eyes  and  the  beads  stood  upon  his  face. 
He  had  met  his  master. 

"  Now,  Slavin,  you're  beginning  to  be  sorry, 
and  now  I  am  going  to  show  you  what  you  are 
made  of." 

Graeme  made  one  or  two  lightning  passes, 
struck  Slavin  one,  two,  three  terrific  blows,  and 
laid  him  quite  flat  and  senseless.  Keefe  and 
Blaney  both  sprang  forward,  but  there  was  a 
savage  kind  of  growl. 

"  Hold,  there ! "  It  was  old  man  Kelson  looking 
along  a  pistol  barrel.  "  You  know  me,  Keefe," 
he  said.     "  You  won't  do  any  murder  this  time." 

Keefe  turned  green  and  yellow  and  staggered 
back,  while  Slavin  slowly  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  Will  you  take  some  more  ?  "  said  Graeme. 
"  You  haven't  got  much;  but  mind,  I  have  stopped 
playing  with  you.  Put  up  your  gun.  Kelson. 
Ko  one  will  interfere  now." 

Slavin  hesitated,  then  rushed,  but  Graeme 
stepped  to  meet  him,  and  we  saw  Slavin's  heels  in 
the  air  as  he  fell  back  upon  his  neck  and  shoulders 
and  lay  still,  with  his  toes  quivering. 

"  Bon  1  "  yelled  Baptiste.  "  Bully  boy  t  Dat's 
deJ(m  stuff.  Dat's  larn  him  one  good  lesson."  But 
immediately  he  shrieked,  "  Gar-r-'r-r-e  d  vous  I " 


58  Black  Rock. 

He  was  too  late,  for  there  was  a  crash  of  break- 
ing  glass,  and  Graeme  fell  to  the  floor  with  a 
long  deep  cut  on  the  side  of  his  head.  Keefe  had 
hurled  a  bottle  with  all  too  sure  an  aim  and  had 
fled.  I  thought  he  was  dead ;  but  we  carried  him 
out,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  groaned,  opened  his 
eyes,  and  sunk  again  into  insensibility. 

"  Where  can  we  take  him  ?  "  I  cried. 

"  To  my  shack,"  said  Mr.  Craig. 

"  Is  there  no  place  nearer  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Mayor's.  I  shall  run  on  to  tell 
her." 

She  met  us  at  the  door.  I  had  in  mind  to  say 
some  words  of  apology,  but  when  I  looked  upon 
her  face  I  forgot  my  words,  forgot  my  business 
at  her  door,  and  stood  simply  looking. 

"  Come  in  !  Bring  him  in  !  Please  do  not 
wait,"  she  said,  and  her  voice  was  sweet  and  soft 
and  firm. 

We  laid  him  in  a  large  room  at  the  back  of  the 
shop  over  which  Mrs.  Mavor  lived.  Together 
we  dressed  the  wound,  her  firm  white  fingers  skil- 
ful as  if  with  long  training.  Before  the  dressing 
was  finished  I  sent  Craig  off,  for  the  time  had 
come  for  the  magic  lantern  in  the  church,  and  I 
knew  how  critical  the  moment  was  in  our  fight. 

"  Go,"  I  said.  "  He  is  coming  to  and  we  do  not 
need  you." 


Black  Rock.  59 

In  a  few  moments  more  Graeme  revived,  and 
gazing  about  asked  :  "  What's  all  this  about  ?  " 
and  then,  recollecting,  "  Ah  !  that  brute  Keefe  ; " 
then  seeing  my  anxious  face  he  said  carelessly  : 
*'  Awful  bore,  ain't  it  2  Sorry  to  trouble  you, 
old  fellow." 

"  You  be  hanged  I "  I  said  shortly  ;  for  his  old 
sweet  smile  was  playing  about  his  lips,  and  was 
almost  too  much  for  me.  "  Mrs.  Mavor  and  I  are 
in  command,  and  you  must  keep  perfectly  still." 

"  Mrs.  Mavor  ?  "  he  said  in  surprise. 

She  came  forward,  with  a  slight  flush  on  her 
face. 

"  I  think  you  know  me,  Mr.    Graeme." 

"  I  have  often  seen  you  and  wished  to  know 
you.     I  am  sorry  to  bring  you  this  trouble." 

"  You  must  not  say  so,"  she  replied,  "  but  let 
me  do  all  for  you  that  I  can.  And  now  the 
doctor  says  you  are  to  lie  still." 

"  The  doctor  ?  Oh  !  you  mean  Connor.  He  is 
hardly  there  yet.  You  don't  know  each  other. 
Permit  me  to  present  Mr.  Connor,  Mrs.  Mavor." 

As  she  bowed  slightly  her  eyes  looked  into 
mine  with  serious  gaze,  not  inquiring,  yet  search- 
ing my  soul.  As  I  looked  into  her  eyes  I  forgot 
everything  about  me,  and  when  I  recalled  myself 
it  seemed  as  if  I  had  been  away  in  some  far  place. 
It  was  not  their  color  or  their  brightness  j  I  do 


6o  Black  Rock, 

not  jet  know  their  color,  and  I  have  often  looked 
into  thera  ;  and  they  were  not  bright  ;  but  they 
were  clear,  and  one  could  look  far  down  into  them, 
and  in  their  depths  see  a  glowing,  steady  light.  As 
I  went  to  get  some  drugs  from  the  Black  Kock 
doctor  I  found  myself  wondering  about  that  far- 
down  light  ;  and  about  her  voice,  how  it  could 
get  that  sound  from  far  away. 

I  found  the  doctor  quite  drunk,  as  indeed  Mr. 
Craig  had  warned  ;  but  his  drugs  were  good,  and 
1  got  what  I  wanted  and  quickly  returned. 

"While  Graeme  slept  Mrs.  Mavor  made  me  tea. 
As  the  evening  wore  on  I  told  her  the  events 
of  the  day,  dwelling  admiringly  upon  Craig's 
generalship.     She  smiled  at  this. 

"  He  got  me,  too,"  she  said.  "  jSTixon  was  sent 
tome  just  before  the  sports,  and  I  don't  think  he 
will  break  down  to-day,  and  I  am  so  thankful." 

And  her  eyes  glowed. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  he  won't,"  I  thought  to 
myself,  but  I  said  no  word. 

After  a  long  pause  she  went  on,  "I  have 
promised  Mr.  Craig  to  sing  to-night  if  I  am 
needed  I "  and  then,  after  a  moment's  hesitation, 
"  it  is  two  years  since  I  have  been  able  to  sing 
— two  years,"  she  repeated,  "  since  " — and  -,hen 
her  brave  voice  trembled — "my  husband  was 
killed." 


Black  Rock.  6i 

**  I  quite  understand,"  I  said,  having  no  other 
word  on  my  tongue. 

"  And,"  she  went  on  quietly,  "  I  fear  I  have 
been  selfish.  It  is  hard  to  sing  the  same  songs. 
"Wo  were  very  happy.  But  the  miners  like  to 
hear  me  sing,  and  I  think  perhaps  it  helps  them 
to  feel  less  lonely  and  keeps  them  from  evil.  I 
shall  try  to-night  if  I  am  needed.  Mr.  Craig  will 
not  ask  me  unless  he  must." 

I  would  have  seen  every  miner  and  lumberman 
in  the  place  hideously  drunk  before  I  would  have 
asked  her  to  sing  one  song  while  her  heart  ached. 
I  wondered  at  Craig,  and  said  rather  angrily  : 

"  He  thinks  only  of  those  wretched  miners  and 
shantymen  of  his." 

She  looked  at  me  with  wonder  in  her  eyes  and 
said  gently : 

"  And  are  they  not  Christ's  too  ? " 

And  I  found  no  word  to  reply. 

It  was  Hearing  ten  o'clock,  and  I  was  wonder- 
ing how  the  fight  was  going  and  hoping  that  Mrs. 
Mavor  would  not  be  needed,  when  the  door 
opened  and  old  man  Nelson  and  Sandy,  the  latter 
much  battered  and  ashamed,  came  in  with  the 
word  for  Mrs.  Mavor. 

"  I  will  come,"  she  said  simply.  She  saw  me 
preparing  to  accompany  her  and  asked :  "  Dr 
you  think  you  can  leave  him  2 " 


62  Black  i<ock. 

"  He  will  do  quite  well  in  Nelson's  care." 

"  Then  I  am  glad  ;  for  I  must  take  my  little 
one  with  me.  I  did  not  put  her  to  bed  in  case  I 
should  need  to  go,  and  I  may  not  leave  her." 

"We  entered  the  church  by  the  back  door,  and 
saw  at  once  that  even  3'^et  the  battle  might  easily 
be  lost.  r 

Some  mineis  had  just  come  from  Slavin's  evi- 
dently bent  on  breaking  up  the  meeting  in  re- 
venge for  the  collapse  of  the  dance,  which  Slavin 
was  unable  to  enjoy,  much  less  direct.  Craig 
was  gallantly  holding  his  ground,  finding  it  hard 
work  to  keep  his  men  in  good  humor,  and  so 
prevent  a  fight,  for  there  were  cries  of  "  Put  him 
out !  Put  the  beast  out ! "  at  a  miner  half  drunk 
and  wholly  outrageous. 

The  look  of  relief  that  came  over  his  face  when 
Craifj:  caufj^ht  sioht  of  us  told  how  anxious  he  had 
been,  and  reconciled  me  to  Mrs.  Mavor's  singing. 

"  Thank  the  good  God,"  he  said,  with  what 
came  near  being  a  sob.  "  I  vfas  about  to  des- 
pair." 

He  immediately  walked  to  the  front  and  called 
out : 

"  Gentlemen,  if  you  wish  it  Mrs.  Mavor  will 
sing." 

There  was  a  dead  silence.  Some  one  began  to 
api  laud,  but  a  miner  said  savagely ; 


Black  Rock.  63 

**  Stop  that,  you  fool ! " 

There  was  a  few  moments'  delay,  when  from  the 
crowd  a  voice  called  out,  "  Does  Mrs.  Mavor  wish 
to  sing  ? "  followed  by  cries  of  "  Aye,  that's  it." 
Then  Shaw,  the  foreman  at  the  mines,  stood  up 
in  the  audience  and  said  : 

"Mr.  Craig  and  gentlemen,  you  know  that 
three  years  ago  I  was  known  as  '  Old  Ricketts,' 
and  that  I  owe  all  I  am  to-night,  under  God,  to 
Mrs.  Mavor  and  " — with  a  little  quiver  in  his 
voice — "  her  baby.  And  we  all  know  that  for 
two  years  she  has  not  sung,  and  we  all  know 
why.  And  what  I  say  is  that  if  she  does  not  feel 
like  singing  to-night  she  is  not  going  to  sing  to 
keep  any  drunken  brute  of  Slavin's  crowd  quiet." 

There  were  deep  growls  of  approval  all  over 
the  church.  I  could  have  hugged  Shaw  then  and 
there.  Mr.  Craig  went  to  Mrs.  Mavor,  and  after 
a  word  with  her  came  back  and  said  : 

"Mrs.  Mavor  wishes  me  to  thank  her  dear 
friend  Mr.  Shaw,  but  says  she  would  like  to  sing." 

The  response  was  perfect  stillness.  Mr.  Craig 
sat  down  to  the  organ  and  played  the  opening 
bars  of  the  touching  melody,  "Oft  in  the  Stilly 
Night."  Mrs.  Mavor  came  to  the  front,  and  with 
a  smile  of  exquisite  sweetness  upon  her  sad  face, 
and  looking  straight  at  us  with  her  glorious  eyes, 
began  to  sing. 


64  Black  Rock. 

Her  voice,  a  rich  soprano,  even  and  true,  rose  and 
fell,  now  soft,  now  strong,  but  always  filling  the 
building,  pouring  around  us  floods  of  music.  I 
had  heard  Putti's  "  Home,  Sweet  Home,"  and  of 
all  singing  that  alone  affected  me  as  did  this. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  verse  the  few  women  in 
the  church  and  some  men  w^ere  weeping  quietly, 
but  when  she  began  the  words — 

"  When  I  remember  all 
The  friends  once  linked  together," 

sobs  came  on  every  side  from  these  tender-hearted 
fellows,  and  Shaw  quite  lost  his  grip.  But  she 
sang  steadily  on,  the  tone  clearer  and  sweeter  and 
fuller  at  every  note,  and  when  the  sound  of  her 
voice  died  away,  she  stood  looking  at  the  men  as 
if  in  wonder  that  the}^  should  weep.  No  one 
moved.  Mr.  Craig  played  softly  on,  and,  v/an- 
dering  through  many  variations,  arrived  at  last  at 
"  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul." 

As  she  sang  the  appealing  words  her  face  was 
lifted  up  and  she  saw  none  of  us ;  but  she  must 
have  seen  some  one,  for  the  cry  in  her  voice  could 
only  come  from  one  who  could  see  and  feel  help 
close  at  hand.  On  and  on  went  the  glorious 
voice,  searching  my  soul's  depths  ;  but  when  she 
came  to  the  words — 

*'  Thou,  O  Christ,  art  all  I  want," 


Black  Rock.  65 

she  stretched  up  her  arms — she  had  quite  forgot- 
ten us,  her  voice  had  borne  her  to  other  worlds — 
and  sang  with  such  a  passion  of  ahcmdon  that  ray 
soul  was  ready  to  surrender  anything,  every- 
thing. 

Again  Mr.  Craig  wandered  on  through  his 
changing  chords  till  again  he  came  to  familiar 
ground,  and  the  voice  began,  in  low,  thrilling 
tones,  Bernard's  great  song  of  home — 

"  Jerusalem  the  golden." 

Every  word,  with  all  its  weight  of  meaning, 
came  winging  to  our  souls,  till  we  found  ourselves 
gazing  afar  into  those  stately  halls  of  Zion,  with 
their  daylight  serene  and  their  jubilant  throngs. 
When  the  singer  came  to  the  last  verse  there 
was  a  pause.  Again  Mr.  Craig  softly  played  the 
interlude ;  but  still  there  was  no  voice.  I 
looked  up.  She  was  very  white  and  her  eyes  were 
glowing  with  their  deep  light.  Mr.  Craig  looked 
quickly  about,  saw  her,  stopped  and  half  rose,  as 
if  to  go  to  her,  when,  in  a  voice  that  seemed  to 
come  from  a  far-off  land,  she  went  on — 

"  O  sweet  and  blessed  country  I " 

The  longing,  the  yearning  in  the  second   "  O  " 
were  indescribable.     Again  and  again,  as  she  held 
that  word    and    then  dropped  down   witli  the 
5 


66  Black  Rock- 

cadence  in  the  music,  my  heart  ached  for  I  knew 
not  what. 

The  audience  were  sitting  as  in  a  trance.  The 
grimy  faces  of  the  miners — for  they  never  get 
quite  white — were  furrowed  with  the  tear-courses. 
Shaw  by  this  time  had  his  face  too  lifted  high, 
his  eyes  gazing  far  above  the  singer's  head,  and 
I  knew  by  the  rapture  in  his  face  that  he  was 
seeing,  as  she  saw,  the  thronging  stately  halls  and 
the  white-robed  conquerors.  He  had  felt  and  was 
still  feeling  all  the  stress  of  the  fight,  and  to  him 
the  vision  of  the  conquerors  in  their  glory  was 
soul-drawing  and  soul-stirring.  And  Nixon,  too — 
he  had  his  vision  ;  but  what  he  saw  was  the  face 
of  the  singer  with  the  shining  eyes,  and  by  the 
look  of  him  that  was  vision  enough. 

Immediately  after  her  last  note  Mrs.  Mavor 
stretched  out  her  hands  to  her  little  girl,  who  was 
sitting  on  her  knee,  caught  her  up,  and,  holding 
her  close  to  her  breast,  walked  quickly  behind 
the  curtain.  Kot  a  sound  followed  the  singing; 
no  one  moved  till  she  had  disappeared ;  and  then 
Mr.  Craig  came  to  the  front,  and,  motioning  to 
me  to  follow  Mrs.  Mavor,  began  in  a  low,  dis- 
tinct voice : 

"  Gentlemen,  it  was  not  easy  for  Mrs.  Mavor 
to  sing  for  us,  and  you  know  she  sang  because 
she  is  a  miner's  wife>  and  her  heart  is  with  tha 


Black  Rock.  t7 

miners.  But  she  sang,  too,  because  her  heart  is 
His  who  came  to  earth  this  day  so  many  years 
ago  to  save  us  all ;  and  she  would  make  you  love 
Him,  too.  For  in  loving  Him  you  are  saved  from 
all  base  loves,  and  you  know  what  I  mean. 

"  And  before  we  say  good  night,  men,  I  want 
to  know  if  the  time  is  not  come  when  all  of  3'ou 
who  mean  to  be  better  than  you  are  should 
join  in  putting  from  us  this  thing  that  has  brought 
sorrow  and  shame  to  us  and  to  those  we  love.  You 
know  what  I  mean.  Some  of  you  are  strong. 
Will  you  stand  by  and  see  weaker  men  robbed  of 
the  money  they  save  for  those  far  avyay,  and 
robbed  of  the  manhood  that  no  money  can  buy  or 
restore  ? 

"  Will  the  strong  men  help  ?  Shall  we  all  join 
hands  in  this  %  What  do  you  say  ?  In  this  town 
we  have  often  seen  hell, .  and  just  a  moment  ago 
we  were  all  looking  into  heaven,  'the  sweet  and 
blessed  country.'  O  men ! " — and  his  voice  rang  in 
an  agony  through  the  building — "  O  men !  which 
shall  be  ours?  For  Heaven's  dear  sake,  let  us 
help  one  another !     Who  will  ?  " 

I  was  looking  out  through  a  slit  in  the  curtain. 
The  men,  already  wrought  to  intense  feeling  by 
the  music,  were  listening  with  set  faces  and  gleam- 
ing eyes,  and  as  at  the  appeal  "  Who  will  ? " 
Craig  raised  high  his  hand,  Shaw,  NixoUj,  and  a 


68  Black  Rock. 

hundred  men  sprang  to  their  feet  and  held  high 
their  hands. 

I  have  witnessed  some  thrilling  scenes  in  my 
life,  but  never  anything  to  equal  that:  the  one 
man  on  the  platform  standing  at  full  height,  with 
his  hand  thrown  up  to  heaven,  and  the  hundred 
men  below  standing  straight,  with  arms  up  at 
full  length,  silent  and  almost  motionles. 

For  a  moment  Craig  held  them  so,  and  again 
his  voice  rang  out,  louder,  sterner  than  before : 

"  All  who  mean  it,  say,  '  By  God's  help,  I  will.' " 

And  back  from  a  hundred  throats  came  deep 
and  strong  the  words,  "  By  God's  help,  I  will." 

At  this  point  Mrs.  Mavor,  whom  I  had  quite 
forgotten,  put  her  hand  on  my  arm.  "  Go  and 
tell  him,"  she  panted,  "  I  want  them  to  come  on 
Thursday  night,  as  they  used  to  in  the  other  days — 
go — quick,"  and  she  almost  pushed  me  out.  I 
gave  Craig  her  message.  lie  held  up  his  hand 
for  silence. 

"  Mrs.  Mavor  wishes  me  to  say  that  she  will  be 
glad  to  see  you  all,  as  in  the  old  days,  on  Thursday 
evening ;  and  I  can  think  of  no  better  place  to 
give  formal  expression  to  our  pledge  of  this  night." 

There  was  a  shout  of  acceptance,  and  then,  at 
some  one's  call,  the  long-pent-up  feelings  of  the 
crowd  found  vent  in  three  mighty  cheers  for  Mrs 
Kavor, 


Black  Rock.  69 

"  'Now  for  our  old  hymn,"  called  out  Mr.  Craigj 
"and  Mrs.  Mavor  will  lead  us." 

He  sat  down  at  the  organ,  played  a  few  bars 
of  "  The  Sweet  By  and  By,"  and  then  Mrs.  Mavor 
began.  But  not  a  soul  joined  till  the  refrain  was 
reached,  and  then  they  sang  as  only  men  wif,h 
their  hearts  on  fire  can  sing.  But  after  the  last 
refrain  Mr.  Craig  made  a  sign  to  Mrs.  Mayor,  and 
she  sang  alone,  slowly  and  softly,  and  with  eyes 
looking  far  away — 

"  In  the  sweet  by  and  by. 
We  shall  meet  oh  that  beautiful  shore." 

There  was  no  benediction — there  seemed  no 
need ;  and  the  men  went  quietly  out.  But  over 
and  over  again  the  voice  kept  singing  in  my  ears 
and  in  my  heart,  "  We  shall  meet  on  that  beau- 
tiful shore."  And  after  the  sleigh-loads  of  men 
had  gone  and  left  the  street  empty,  as  I  stood 
with  Craig  in  the  radiant  moonlight  that  made  the 
great  mountains  about  come  near  us,  from  Sandy's 
sleigh  we  heard  in  the  distance  Baptiste's  French- 
English  song ;  but  the  song  that  floated  down 
with  the  sound  of  the  bells  from  the  miners' 
sleigh  was — 

"  We  shall  meet  on  that  beautiful  shore.'* 
**  Poor  old  Shaw  I "  said  Craig  softly. 


70  Black  Rock. 

When  the  last  sound  had  died  away  I  turnea 
to  him  and  said : 

"  You  have  won  your  fight." 

"  We  have  won  our  fight.  I  was  beaten,"  he  re> 
plied  quickly,  offering  me  his  hand.  Then,  taking 
off  his  cap  and  looking  up  beyond  the  mountain, 
tops  and  the  silent  stars,  he  added  softly :  "  Our 
fight,  but  His  victory." 

And  thinking  it  all  over,  I  could  not  say  but 
perhaps  he  was  right. 


Black  Rock.  71 


CHAPTER  lY. 

MKS.   mayor's   STOBY. 

The  days  that  followed  the  Black  Rock 
Christmas  were  anxious  days  and  weary,  but  not 
for  the  brightest  of  my  life  would  I  change  them 
now;  for  as  after  the  burning  heat  or  rocking 
storms  the  dying  day  lies  beautiful  in  the  tender 
glow  of  the  evening,  so  these  days  have  lost  their 
weariness  and  lie  bathed  in  a  misty  glory.  The 
years  that  bring  us  many  ills  and  that  pass  so 
stormfully  over  us  bear  away  with  them  the  ugli- 
ness, the  weariness,  the  pain  that  are  theirs, 
but  the  beauty,  the  sweetness,  the  rest  they 
leave  untouched,  for  these  are  eternal.  As 
the  mountains,  that  near  at  hand  stand  jagged 
and  scarred,  in  the  far  distance  repose  in  their 
soft  robes  of  purple  haze,  so  the  rough  present 
fades  into  the  past,  soft  and  sweet  and  beau- 
tiful. 

I  have  set  myself  to  recall  the  pain  and  anxiety 
of  those  days  and  nights  when  we  waited  in  fear 
for  the  turn  of  the  fever,  but  I  can  only  think  ol 


72  Black  Rock. 

the  patience  and  gentleness  and  courage  of  her 
who  stood  beside  me,  bearing  more  than  half  my 
burden.  And  while  I  can  see  the  face  of  Leslie 
Graeme,  ghastly  or  flushed,  and  bear  his  low 
moaning  or  the  broken  words  of  his  delirium,  I 
think  chiefly  of  the  bright  face  bending  over  him, 
and  of  the  cool,  firm,  swift-moving  hands  tliat 
soothed  and  smoothed  and  rested,  and  the  voice, 
like  the  soft  song  of  a  bird  in  the  twilight,  that 
never  failed  to  bring  peace. 

Mrs.  Mavor  and  I  were  much  together  during 
those  days.  I  made  my  home  in  Mr.  Craig's 
shack,  but  most  of  my  time  was  spent  beside  my 
friend.  "We  did  not  see  much  of  Craig,  for  he 
was  heart-deep  with  the  miners,  laying  plans  for 
the  making  of  the  league  the  following  Thursday  ; 
and  though  he  shared  our  anxiety  and  was  ever 
ready  to  relieve  us,  his  thought  and  his  talk  had 
mostly  to  do  with  the  league. 

Mrs.  Mavor's  evenings  were  given  to  the  miners, 
but  her  afternoons  mostly  to  Graeme  and  to  me, 
and  then  it  was  I  saw  another  side  of  her  char- 
acter. We  would  sit  in  her  little  dining-room, 
where  the  pictures  on  the  walls,  the  quaint  old 
silver,  and  bits  of  curiously  cut  glass  ail  spoke  of 
other  and  different  days,  and  thence  we  would 
roam  the  world  of  literature  and  art.  Keenly 
sensitive  to  all  the  good  and  beautiful  in  these. 


Black  Rock.  75 

she  had  her  favorites  among  the  masters,  for 
whom  she  was  ready  to  do  battle ;  and  when  her 
argument,  instinct  with  fancy  and  vivid  imagina- 
tion, failed,  she  swept  away  all  opposing  opinion 
with  the  swift  rush  of  her  enthusiasm ;  so  that 
though  I  felt  she  was  beaten,  I  was  left  without 
words  to  reply.  Shakespeare  and  Tennyson  and 
Lurns  she  loved,  but  not  Shelley  nor  Byron  nor 
even  "Wordsworth.  Browning  she  knew  not,  and 
therefore  could  not  rank  him  with  her  noblest 
three  ;  but  when  I  read  to  her  "  A  Death  in  the 
Desert "  and  came  to  the  noble  words  at  the  end 
of  the  tale — 

"  For  all  was  as  I  say,  and  now  the  man 
Lies  as  he  once  lay,  breast  to  breast  with  God," 

the  light  shone  in  her  eyes  and  she  said  :  "  Oh,  that 
is  good  and  great.  I  shall  get  much  out  of  him. 
I  had  always  feared  he  was  impossible."  And 
"  Paracelsus,"  too,  stirred  her ;  but  when  I  recited 
the  thrilling  fragment,  "  Prospice,"  on  to  that 
closing  rapturous  cry — 

"  Then  a  light,  then  thy  breast, 
O  thou  soul  of  my  soul !     I  shall  clasp  thee  again,^ 
And  with  God  be  the  rest !  " 

the  red  color  faded  from  her  cheek,  her  breath 
came  in  a  sob,  and  she  rose  quickly  and  passed 
out  without  a  word.    Ever  aiter  Browning  was 


74  Black  Rock. 

among  her  gods.  But  when  we  talked  of  music, 
she,  adoring  Wagner,  soared  upon  wings  of  the 
mighty  Tannhauser,  far  above,  into  regions  un- 
known, leaving  me  to  walk  soberly  with  Bee- 
thoven and  Mendelssohn.  Yet  with  all  our  free, 
frank  talk,  there  was  all  the  while  that  in  her 
gentle  courtesy  which  kept  me  from  venturing 
into  any  chamber  of  her  life  whose  door  she  did 
not  set  freely  open  to  me.  So  I  vexed  myself 
about  her,  and  when  Mr.  Craig  returned  the  next 
week  from  the  Landing,  where  he  had  been  for 
some  days,  my  first  question  was  : 

"  Who  is  Mrs.  Mavor  ?  And  how  in  the  name 
of  all  that  is  wonderful  and  unlikely  does  she 
come  to  be  here  ?     And  why  does  she  stay  ?  " 

He  would  not  answer  then.  Whether  it  was 
that  his  mind  was  full  of  the  coming  struggle  or 
whether  he  shrank  from  the  tale,  I  know  not; 
but  that  night,  when  we  sat  together  beside  his 
fire,  he  told  me  the  story  while  I  smoked.  He 
was  worn  with  his  long,  hard  drive  and  with  the 
burden  of  his  work,  but  as  he  went  on  with  his 
tale,  looking  into  the  fire  as  he  told  it,  he  forgot 
all  his  present  weariness  and  lived  again  the 
scenes  he  painted  for  me.     This  was  his  story: 

"  I  remember  well  my  first  sight  of  her  as  she 
sprang  from  the  front  seat  of  the  stage  to  the 
ground,  hardly  touching  her  husband's  hand.    Shr 


Black  Rock.  75 

looked  a  mere  girl.  Let's  see — five  years  ago— 
she  couldn't  Lave  been  a  day  over  twenty-three. 
She  looked  barely  twenty.  Her  swift  glance 
swept  over  the  group  of  miners  at  the  hotel  door, 
and  then  rested  on  the  mountains  standing  in  all 
their  autumn  glory. 

"  I  was  proud  of  our  mountains  that  evening. 
Turning  to  her  husband,  she  exclaimed :  '  Oh, 
Lewis,  are  they  not  grand?  and  lovely,  too?' 
Every  miner  lost  his  heart  then  and  there,  but  all 
waited  for  Abe,  the  driver,  to  give  his  verdict 
before  venturing  an  opinion.  Abe  said  nothing 
until  he  had  taken  a  preliminary  drink,  and  then, 
calling  all  hands  to  fill  up,  he  lifted  his  glass  high 
and  said  solemnly : 

" '  Boys,  here's  to  her.' 

"  Like  a  flash  every  glass  -was  emptied,  and  Abe 
called  out :  '  Fill  her  up  again,  boys !  My 
treat ! '  ' 

"  He  was  evidently  quite  worked  up.  Then  he 
began  with  solemn  emphasis: 

"'Boys,  you  hear  me!     She's  a  No.  1,  triple 

X,  the  ]>ure  quill  with  a  bead  on  it:  she's  a ' 

and  for  the  first  time  in  his  Black  Bock  history 
Abe  was  stuck  for  a  word.  Some  one  suggested 
*  angel.' 

"  '  Angel ! '  repeated  Abe  with  infinite  con- 
tempt.    *  Angel  be  blowed  '  (I  paraphrase  here) ; 


76  Black  Rock. 

'  angels  ain't  in  the  same  month  with  her.  I'd 
like  to  see  any  blanked  angel  swing  my  team 
around  them  curves  without  a  shiver.' 

" '  Held  the  lines  herself,  Abe  ? '  asked  the 
miner. 

" '  That's  what,'  said  Abe  ;  and  then  he  went 
off  into  a  fusilade  of  scientific  profanity,  expres- 
sive of  his  esteem  for  the  girl  who  had  swung  his 
team  round  the  curves  ;  and  the  miners  nodded  to 
each  other  and  winked  their  entire  approval  of 
Abe's  performance,  for  this  was  his  specialty. 

"  Yery  decent  fellow,  Abe,  but  his  talk  wouldn't 
print." 

Here  Craig  paused,  as  if  balancing  Abe's  virtues 
and  vices. 

"  Well,"  I  urged,  "  who  is  she  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  said,  recalling  himself.  "  She  is 
an  Edinburgh  young  lady — met  Lewis  Mavor,  a 
young  Scotch-Englishman,  in  London — wealthy, 
good  family,  and  all  that,  but  fast  and  going  to 
pieces  at  home.  His  people,  who  own  large 
shares  in  these  mines  here,  as  a  last  resort  sent 
him  out  here  to  reform.  Curiously  innocent 
ideas  those  old-country  people  have  of  the  re- 
forming properties  of  this  atmosphere !  They 
send  their  young  bloods  here  to  reform.  Here ! 
in  this  devil's  carap-ground,  where  a  man's  lust  is 
his  only  law,  and  where,  from  sheer  monotony,  a 


Black  Rock.  77 

man  must  oetake  himself  to  the  only  excitement 
of  the  place — that  offered  by  the  saloon.  Good 
people  in  the  East  hold  up  holy  hands  of  horror 
at  these  godless  miners ;  but  1  tell  j^ou  it's  asking 
these  boys  a  good  deal  to  keep  straight  and  clean 
in  a  place  like  this.  I  take  my  excitement  in 
fighting  the  devil  and  doing  my  work  generally, 
and  that  gives  me  enough  ;  but  these  poor  chaps 
• — hard-worked,  homeless,  with  no  break  or  change 
— God  help  them  and  me  !  "  and  his  voice  sank 
low. 

"  Well,"  I  persisted,  "  did  Mavor  reform  ?" 

Again  he  roused  himself. 

"  Reform  ?  Not  exactly.  In  six  months  he 
had  broken  through  all  restraint ;  and,  mind  you, 
not  the  miners'  fault — not  a  miner  helped  him 
down.  It  was  a  sight  to  make  angels  weep  when 
Mrs.  Mavor  would  come  to  the  saloon  door  for 
her  husband.  Every  miner  would  vanish.  They 
could  not  look  upon  her  shame,  and  they  would 
send  Mavor  forth  in  the  charge  of  Billy  Breen,  a 
queer  little  chap  who  had  belonged  to  the  Mavors 
in  some  way  in  the  old  country,  and  between 
them  they  would  get  him  home.  IIoav  she  stood 
it  puzzles  me  to  this  day  ;  but  she  never  made  any 
sign  and  her  courage  never  failed.  It  was  always 
a  bright,  brave,  proud  face  she  held  up  to  the ' 
world — except  in  church  ;  there  it  was  dirlerent. 


78  Black  Rock. 

I  used  to  preach  my  sermons,  I  believe,  mostly 
for  her — but  never  so  that  she  could  suspect — as 
bravely  and  as  cheerily  as  I  could.  And  as  she 
listened,  and  especially  as  she  sang — how  she  used 
to  sing  in  those  days ! — there  was  no  touch  of 
pride  in  her  face,  though  the  courage  never  died 
out,  but  appeal !  appeal !  I  could  have  cursed 
aloud  the  cause  of  her  misery  or  wept  for  the  pity 
of  it.  Before  her  baby  was  born  he  seemed  to  pull 
himself  together,  for  he  was  quite  mad  about  her, 
and  from  the  day  the  baby  came — talk  about 
miracles  ! — from  that  day  he  never  drank  a  drop. 
She  gave  the  baby  over  to  him,  and  the  baby 
simply  absorbed  him. 

"  He  was  a  new  man.  He  could  not  drink 
whisky  and  kiss  his  baby.  And  the  miners — it 
was  really  absurd  if  it  were  not  so  pathetic.  It 
was  the  first  baby  in  Black  Rock,  and  they  used 
to  crowd  Mavor's  shop  and  peep  into  the  room  at 
the  back  of  it — I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  when  he 
lost  his  position  as  manager  he  opened  a  hard- 
ware shop,  for  his  people  chucked  him  and  he  was 
too  proud  to  write  home  for  money — just  for  a 
chance  to  be  asked  in  to  see  the  baby.  1  came 
upon  Kixon  standing  at  the  back  of  the  shop  after 
he  had  seen  the  baby  for  the  first  time,  sobbing 
hard,  and  to  my  question  he  replied  :  '  It's  just 
like  my  own.'    You  can't  understand  this.     But 


Black  Rock.  79 

to  men  who  have  lived  so  long  in  the  mountains 
that  they  have  forgotten  what  a  baby  looks  like, 
who  have  had  experience  of  humanity  only  in  its 
roughest,  foulest  form,  this  little  mite,  sweet  and 
clean,  was  like  an  angel  fresh  from  heaven,  the 
one  link  in  all  that  black  camp  that  bound  tliem 
to  what  was  purest  and  best  in  their  past. 

"  And  to  see  the  mother  and  her  baby  handle 
the  miners  ! 

"  Oh,  it  was  all  beautiful  beyond  words  I  I 
shall  never  forget  the  shock  I  got  one  night  when 
I  found  '  Old  Ricketts '  nursing  the  baby.  A 
drunken  old  beast  he  was ;  but  there  he  was  sit- 
ting, sober  enough,  making  extraordinary  faces 
at  the  baby,  who  was  grabbing  at  his  nose  and 
whiskers  and  cooing  in  blissful  delight.  Poor 
'  Old  Ricketts '  looked  as  if  he  had  been  caught 
stealing,  and  muttered  something  about  having 
to  go,  gazed  wildly  round  for  some  place  in  which 
to  lay  the  baby,  when  in  came  the  mother,  saying 
in  her  own  sweet,  frank  way  :  '  Oh,  Mr.  Ricketts ' 
(she  didn't  find  out  till  afterward  his  name  was 
Shaw),  '  would  you  miiid  keeping  her  just  a  little 
longer  ?  I  shall  be  back  in  a  few  minutes.' 
And  '  Old  Ricketts  '  guessed  he  could  wait. 

♦'  But  in  six  months  mother  and  baby,  between 
them,  transformed  '  Old  Ricketts '  into  Mr.  Shaw, 
fire  boss  of  the  mines.     And  then  in  the  evenings 


So  Black  Rock. 

when  she  would  be  singing  her  baby  to  sleep,  the 
little  shop  would  be  full  of  miners,  listening  in 
dead  silence  to  the  baby-songs,  and  the  English 
songs,  and  the  Scotch  songs  she  poured  forth 
without  stint,  for  she  sang  more  for  them  than 
for  her  baby.  'No  wonder  they  adored  her.  She 
was  so  bright,  so  gay,  she  brought  light  with  her 
when  she  went  into  the  camp,  into  the  pits — for 
she  went  down  to  see  the  men  work — or  into  a 
sick  miner's  shack  ;  and  many  a  man,  lonely  and 
sick  for  home  or  wife,  or  baby  or  mother,  found 
in  that  back  room  cheer  and  comfort  and  courage, 
and  to  many  a  poor  broken  wretch  that  room . 
became,  as  one  miner  put  it,  '  the  anteroom  to 
heaven.' " 

Mr.  Craig  paused  and  I  waited.  Then  he  went 
on  slowly : 

"  For  a  year  and  a  half  that  was  the  happiest 
home  in  all  the  world  till  one  day " 

He  put  his  face  in  his  hands  and  shuddered, 

"  I  don't  think  I  can  ever  forget  the  awful  hor- 
ror of  that  bright  fall  afternoon  when  '  Old  Eick- 
etts  '  came  breathless  to  me  and  gasped,  '  Come! 
for  the  dear  Lord's  sake,'  and  I  rushed  after  him. 
At  the  mouth  of  the  shaft  lay  three  men  dead. 
One  was  Lewis  Mavor.  He  had  gone  down  to 
superintend  the  running  of  a  new  drift ;  the  two 
men,  half  drunk  with  Slavin's  whisky,  set  off  a 


Black  Rock.  8i 

shot  prematurely,  to  their  own  and  Mavor's  de- 
struction. They  were  badly  burned,  but  his  face 
was  untouched.  A  miner  was  sponging  off  the 
bloody  froth  oozing  from  his  lips.  The  others  Avere 
standing  about  waiting  for  me  to  speak.  But  I 
could  find  no  word,  for  my  heart  was  sick,  think- 
ing, as  they  Avere,  of  the  3^oung  mother  and  her 
baby  waiting  at  home.  So  I  stood,  looking 
stupidly  from  one  to  the  other,  trying  to  find 
some  reason — coward  that  I  was — why  another 
should  bear  the  news  rather  than  I.  And  while 
we  stood  there,  looking  at  one  another  in  fear, 
there  broke  upon  us  the  sound  of  a  voice  mount- 
ing high  above  the  birch  tops,  singing — 

"  '  Will  ye  no'  come  back  again  ? 
Will  ye  no'  come  back  again  ? 
Better  lo'ed  ye  canna  be, 
Will  ye  no'  come  back  again  ? ' 

"  A  strange  terror  seized  us.  Instinctively  the 
men  closed  up  in  front  of  the  body  and  stood  in 
silence.  Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  clear,  sweet 
voice,  ringing  like  a  silver  bell  up  the  steep — 

"  '  Sweet  the  lav'rock's  note  and  lang, 
Liltin'  wildly  up  the  glen, 
But  aye  tae  me  he  sings  ae  sang, 
Will  ye  no'  come  back  again  ? ' 

"  Before  the  verse  was  finished  *  Old  Ricketts  ' 
6 


82  Black  Rock. 

had  dropped  on  his  knees,  sobbing  out  brokenly, 
*  O  God !  O  God !  have  pity,  have  pity,  have 
pity!' — and  every  man  took  off  his  hat.  And 
still  the  voice  came  nearer,  singing  so  brightly 
the  refrain, 

"  *  Will  ye  no'  come  back  again  ?  ' 

"  It  became  unbearable.  '  Old  Ricketts '  sprang 
suddenly  to  his  feet  and,  gripping  me  b}^  the  arm, 
said  piteously,  *  Oh,  goto  her  !  for  Heaven's  sake, 
go  to  her ! '  1  next  remember  standing  in  her 
path  and  seeing  her  holding  out  her  hands  full 
of  red  lilies,  crying  out,  '  Are  they  not  lovely  ? 
Lewis  is  so  fond  of  them  ! '  "With  the  promise  of 
much  finer  ones  I  turned  her  down  a  path  toward 
the  river,  talking  I  know  not  what  folly  till  her 
great  eyes  grew  grave,  then  anxious,  and  my 
tongue  stammered  and  became  silent.  Then, 
laying  her  hand  upon  my  arm,  she  said  with 
gentle  sweetness,  '  Tell  me  your  trouble,  Mr. 
Craig,'  and  I  knew  my  agony  had  come,  and  I 
burst  out :  '  Oh,  if  it  were  only  mine ! '  She 
turned  .quite  white,  and  with  her  deep  eyes — 
you've  noticed  her  eyes — drawing  tlie  truth  out 
of  mine,  she  said  :  '  Is  it  mine,  Mr.  Craig,  and 
my  baby's?'  I  waited, thinking  with  what  words 
to  begin.  She  put  one  hand  to  her  heart,  and 
with  the  other  caught  a  little  poplar  tree  that 


Black  Rock.  83 

dhivered  under  her  grasp,  and  said  with  white  lips, 
but  even  more  gently,  '  Tell  me.'  I  wondered  at 
mj  voice  being  so  steady  as  I  said :  '  Mrs.  Mavor, 
God  will  help  you  over.' 

"She  was  a  miner's  wife  and  there  was  no 
need  for  more.  I  could  see  the  pattern  of  the 
sunlight  falling  through  the  trees  upon  the  grass, 
I  could  hear  the  murmur  of  the  river  and  the  cry 
of  the  catbird  in  the  bushes,  but  we  seemed  to  be 
in  a  strange  and  unreal  world.  Suddenly  she 
stretched  out  her  hands  to  me  and  with  a  little 
moan  said  :  '  Take  me  to  him.' 

"  *  Sit  down  for  a  moment  or  two,'  1  entreated. 

"  '  No  !  no !  I  am  quite  ready.  See,'  she  added 
quietly,  '  I  am  quite  strong.' 

"  I  set  off  by  a  short  cut  leading  to  her  home, 
hoping  the  men  would  be  there  before  us  ;  but, 
passing  me,  she  walked  swiftly  through  the  trees, 
and  I  followed  in  fear.  As  we  came  near  the 
main  path  I  heard  the  sound  of  feet,  and  I  tried 
to  stop  her,  but  she,  too,  had  heard  and  knew. 
'  Oh,  let  me  go  ! '  she  said  piteously  ;  '  you  need 
not  fear.'  And  I  had  not  the  heart  to  stop  her. 
In  a  little  opening  among  the  pines  we  met  the 
bearers.  When  the  men  saw  her  they  laid  their 
burden  gently  down  upon  the  carpet  of  yellow 
pine-needles,  and  then — for  they  had  the  hearts 
of  true  men  in  them — they  went  away  into  the 


84  Black  Rock. 

bushes  and  left  her  alone  with  her  dead.  She 
went  swiftly  to  his  side,  making  no  cry,  but  kneel- 
ins:  beside  him  she  stroked  his  face  and  hands, 
and  touched  his  curls  with  her  fingers,  murmur- 
ing all  the  time  soft  words  of  love.  '  Oh,  mv 
darling,  my  bonnie,  bonuie  darling,  speak  to  me ! 
Will  3^e  not  speak  to  me  just  one  little  word? 
Oh,  my  love,  my  love,  my  heart's  love  !  Listen, 
my  darling  ! '  And  she  put  her  lips  to  his  ear, 
whispering,  and  then  the  awful  stillness.  Sud- 
denly she  lifted  her  head  and  scanned  his  face, 
and  then,  glancing  round  with  a  wild  surprise  in 
her  eyes,  she  cried  :  'lie  will  not  speak  to  me! 
Oh,  he  will  not  speak  to  me ! '  I  signed  to  the 
men,  and  as  they  came  forward  I  went  to  her  and 
took  her  hands. 

"  '  Oh,'  she  said,  with  a  wail  in  her  voice,  '  he 
will  not  speak  to  me.'  The  men  were  sobbing 
aloud.  She  looked  at  them  with  wide-open  eyes 
of  wonder.  'Why  are  they  weeping?  Will  he 
never  speak  to  me  again  ?  Tell  me,'  she  insisted 
gently.  The  words  were  running  through  my 
head— 

"  '  There's  a  land  that  is  fairer  than  day,' 

and  I  said  them  over  to  her,  holding  her  hands 
firmly  in  mine.  She  gazed  at  me  as  if  in  a  dream 
and  the  light  slowly  faded  from  her  e^^^es  as  she 


Black  Rock.  85 

said,  tearing  her  hands  from  mine  and  waving 
them  toward  the  mountains  and  the  woods  : 

"  '  But  nevermore  here  ?    Kevermore  here  V 

"  I  believe  in  heaven  and  the  other  life,  but  I 
confess  that  for  a  moment  it  all  seemed  shadowy 
beside  the  reality  of  this  warm,  bright  world,  full 
of  life  and  love.  She  was  very  ill  for  two  nights, 
and  when  the  coffin  was  closed  a  new  baby  lay 
in  the  father's  arms. 

"  She  slowly  came  back  to  life,  but  there  were 
no  more  songs.  The  miners  still  come  about  her 
step  and  talk  to  her  baby  and  bring  her  theif 
sorrows  and  troubles  ;  but  though  she  is  always 
gentle,  almost  tender  with  them,  no  man  ever 
says  '  Sing.'  And  that  is  why  I  am  glad  she 
sang  last  week.  It  will  be  good  for  her  and  good 
for  them." 

"  "Why  does  she  stay  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Mavor's  people  wanted  her  to  go  to  them,"  he 
replied.  "  They  have  money — she  told  me  about 
it — but  her  heart  is  in  the  grave  up  there  under  the 
pines  ;  and  besides,  she  hopes  to  do  something 
for  the  miners,  and  she  will  not  leave  them." 

I  am  afraid  I  snorted  a  little  impatiently  as  I 
said  : 

"  Nonsense  !  Why,  with  her  face,  and  manner, 
and  voice  she  could  be  anything  she  liked  in 
Edinburo-h  or  in  London." 


86  Black  Rock. 

"  And  why  Edinburgh  or  London  ? "  he  asked 
coolly. 

"Why?"  I  repeated  a  little  hotly.  "You 
think  this  is  better  ?  " 

"  Nazareth  was  good  enough  for  the  Lord  of 
glory,"  he  answered,  with  a  smile  none  too  bright ; 
but  it  drew  ray  heart  to  him  and  my  heat  was 
gone. 

"  How  long  will  she  stay  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Till  her  work  is  done,"  he  replied. 

"  And  when  will  that  be  ? "  I  asked  impa- 
tiently. 

"  When  God  chooses,"  he  answered  gravely ; 
"  and  don't  j^ou  ever  think  but  that  it  is  worth 
while.  One  value  of  work  is  not  that  crowds 
stare  at  it.     Read  history,  man  !  " 

He  rose  abruptly  and  began  to  walk  about. 

"  And  don't  miss  the  whole  meaning  of  the 
Life  that  lies  at  the  foundation  of  your  religion. 
Yes,"  he  added  to  himself,  "  the  work  is  worth 
doine: — worth  even  her  doino:." 

I  could  not  think  so  then,  but  the  light  of  the 
after  years  proved  him  wiser  than  I.  A  man,  to 
see  far,  must  climb  to  some  height,  and  I  was  too 
much  upon  the  plain  in  those  days  to  catch  even 
a  glimpse  of  distant  sunlit  uplands  of  triumphant 
achievement  that  lie  beyond  the  valley  of  self- 
sacri^cti. 


Black  Rock.  87 


CHAPTER  Y. 

THE  MAKING  OF  THE  LEAGUE. 

Thursday  morning  found  Craig  anxious,  even 
gloomy,  but  with  fight  in  every  line  of  his  face. 
I  tried  to  cheer  him  in  my  clumsy  way  by  chaf- 
fing him  about  the  leafjfue.  But  he  did  not  blaze 
up  as  he  often  did.  It  was  a  thing  too  near  his 
heart  for  that.  He  only  shrank  a  little  from  my 
stupid  chaff  and  said  : 

"  Don't,  old  chap.  This  is  a  good  deal  to  me. 
I've  tried  for  two  years  to  get  this,  and  if  it  falls 
through  now  I  shall  find  it  hard  to  bear." 

Then  I  repented  my  light  words  and  said  : 

"  Why,  the  thing  will  go  sure  enough.  After 
that  scene  in  the  church  they  won't  go  back." 

"  Poor  fellows ! "  he  said  as  if  to  himself. 
"  Whisky  is  about  the  only  excitement  they  have, 
and  they  find  it  pretty  tough  to  give  it  up  ;  and 
a  lot  of  the  men  are  against  the  total  abstinence 
idea.     It  seems  rot  to  them." 

"  It  is  pretty  steep,"  I  said.  "  Can't  you  do 
without  it  ? " 

"  No,  I  fear  not.     There  is  nothing  else  for  it. 


88  Black  Rock. 

Some  of  them  talk  of  compromise.  They  want  to 
quit  the  s;ilooii  and  drink  quietly  in  their  shacks. 
The  moderate  drinker  may  have  his  place  in 
other  countries,  though  I  can't  see  it.  I  haven't 
thought  that  out,  but  here  the  only  safe  man  is  the 
man  who  quits  it  dead  and  fights  it  straight ;  any- 
thing else  is  sheerest  humbug  and  nonsense." 

I  liad  not  gone  in  much  for  total  abstinence  up 
to  this  time,  chiefly  because  its  advocates  seemed 
for  the  most  part  to  be  somewhat  ill-balanced ; 
but  as  I  listened  to  Craig  I  began  to  feel  that  per- 
haps there  was  a  total  abstinence  side  to  the 
temperance  question ;  and  as  to  Black  Rock,  I 
could  see  how  it  must  be  one  thing  or  the  other. 

We  found  Mrs.  Mavor  brave  and  bright.  She 
shared  Mr.  Craig's  anxiety,  but  not  his  gloom. 
Her  courage  was  of  that  serene  kind  that  refuses 
to  believe  defeat  possible  and  lifts  the  spirit  into 
the  triumph  of  final  victory.  Through  the  past 
week  she  had  been  carefully  disposing  her  forces 
and  winning  recruits.  And  yet  she  never  seemed 
to  urge  or  persuade  the  men  ;  but  as  evening  after 
evening  the  miners  dropped  into  the  cozy  room 
down-stairs,  with  her  talk  and  her  songs  she 
cliarmed  them  till  they  were  wholly  hers.  She 
took  for  granted  their  loyalty,  trusted  them 
ut  terly,  and  so  made  it  difficult  for  them  to  be 
ot  \er  than  true  men. 


Black  Rock.  89 

That  night  Mrs.  Mavor's  large  storeroom,  which 
had  been  fitted  up  with  seats,  was  crowded  witli 
miners  when  Mr.  Craig  and  I  entered. 

After  a  glance  over  the  crowd  Craig  said : 
"There's  the  manager;  that  means  war."  And 
I  saw  a  tall  man,  very  fair,  whose  chin  fell  away 
to  the  vanishing  point  and  whose  hair  was  parted 
in  the  middle,  talking  to  Mrs.  Mavor.  She  was 
dressed  in  some  rich  soft  stuff  that  became  her 
well.  She  was  looking  beautiful  as  ever,  but 
there  was  something  quite  new  in  her  manner. 
Her  air  of  good-fellowship  w^as  gone,  and  she  was 
the  high-bred  lady,  whose  gentle  dignity  and 
sweet  grace,  while  very  winning,  made  famili- 
arity impossible. 

The  manager  was  doing  his  best  and  appeared 
to  be  well  pleased  with  himself. 

"  She'll  get  him  if  any  one  can.  I  failed," 
said  Craig. 

I  stood  looking  at  the  men,  and  a  fine  lot  of 
fellows  they  were.  Free,  easy,  bold  in  their  bear- 
ing, they  gave  no  sign  of  rudeness  ;  and  from 
their  frequent  glances  toward  Mrs.  Mavor,  I  could 
see  they  were  always  conscious  of  her  presence. 
No  men  are  so  truly  gentle  as  are  the  Westerners 
in  the  presence  of  a  good  woman.  They  were 
evidently  of  all  classes  and  ranks  originally,  but 
now,  and  in  this  country  of  real  measurements. 


90  Black  Rock. 

they  ranked  simply  according  to  the  "  man  "  in 
them. 

"  See  that  handsome  young  chap  of  dissipated 
appearance  ?  "  said  Craig.  "  That's  Vernon  Win- 
ton,  an  Oxford  graduate,  blue  blood,  awfully 
plucky,  but  quite  gone.  When  he  gets  repentant, 
instead  of  shooting  himself  he  comes  to  Mrs. 
Mavor.     Fact." 

"  From  Oxford  University  to  Black  Eock  min- 
ing camp  is  something  of  a  step,"  I  replied. 

"  That  queer-looking  little  chap  in  the  corner 
is  Billy  Breen.  How  in  the  world  has  he  got 
here  ? "  went  on  Mr.  Craig. 

Queer-looking  he  was.  A  little  man,  with  a 
small  head  set  on  heavy  square  shoulders,  long 
arms,  and  huge  hands  that  sprawled  all  over  his 
body  ;  altogether  a  most  ungainly  specimen  of 
humanity. 

By  this  time  Mrs.  Mavor  had  finished  with  the 
manager  and  was  in  the  center  of  a  group  of 
miners.  Her  grand  air  was  all  gone  and  she  was 
their  comrade,  their  friend,  one  of  themselves. 
Nor  did  she  assume  the  role  of  entertainer,  but 
rather  did  she,  with  half-shy  air,  cast  herself 
upon  their  chivalry,  and  they  were  too  truly 
gentlemen  to  fail  her.  It  is  hard  to  make  West- 
ern men,  and  especially  old-timers,  talk.  But 
this  gift  was  hers,  and  it  stirred  my  admiration 


Black  Rock.  91 

to  see  her  draw  on  a  grizzled  veteran  to  tell  how, 
twenty  years  ago,  he  had  crossed  the  Great 
Divide,  and  had  seen  and  done  what  no  longer 
fell  to  men  to  see  or  do  in  these  new  days.  And 
so  she  won  the  old-timer.  But  it  was  beautiful  to 
see  the  innocent  guile  with  which  she  caught 
Billy  Breen  and  drew  him  to  her  corner  near  the 
organ.  What  she  was  saying  I  knew  not,  but 
poor  Billy  was  protesting,  waving  his  big  hands. 

The  meeting  came  to  order,  with  Shaw  in  the 
chair  and  the  handsome  young  Oxford  man 
secretary.  Shaw  stated  the  object  of  the  meet- 
ing in  a  few  halting  words ;  but  when  he  came 
to  speak  of  the  pleasure  he  and  all  felt  in  being  to- 
gether in  that  room,  his  words  flowed  in  a  stream, 
warm  and  full.  Then  there  was  a  pause  and  Mr. 
Craig  was  called.  But  he  knew  better  than  to 
speak  at  that  point.  Finally  Kixon  rose  hesi- 
tatingly, but  as  he  cauo-ht  a  bright  smile  from 
Mrs.  Mavor  he  straiofhtened  himself  as  for  a  fio:ht. 

"  I  ain't  no  good  at  making  speeches,"  he  be- 
gan ;  "  but  it  ain't  speeches  we  want.  "We've  got 
somethin'  to  do,  an'  what  we  want  to  know  is 
how  to  do  it.  An'  to  be  right  plain,  we  want  to 
know  how  to  drive  this  cursed  whisky  out  o' 
Black  Bock.  You  all  know  what  it's  doin'  fer 
us — at  least  fer  some  of  us.  An  it's  time  to  stop 
it  now,  or  fer  some  of  us  it'll  mighty  soon  be  too 


92  Black  Rock. 

late.  An'  the  only  way  to  stop  its  work  is  to  quit 
drinkin'  it  an'  help  others  to  quit.  1  hear  some 
talk  of  a  league,  an'  what  I  say  is,  if  it's  a  league 
out  an'  outag'inst  whisky,  a  total  abstinence  right 
to  the  ground,  then  I'm  with  it.  That's  my  talk. 
I  move  we  make  that  kind  o'  league." 

Nixon  sat  down  amid  cheers  and  a  chorus  of  re- 
marks. "Good  man!"  "That's  the  talk!" 
"  Stay  with  it !  "  but  he  waited  for  the  smile  and 
the  glance  that  came  to  him  from  the  beautiful 
face  in  the  corner,  and  with  that  he  seemed  con- 
tent. 

Again  there  was  silence.  Then  the  secretary 
rose  with  a  slight  flush  upon  his  handsome,  deli- 
cate face  and  seconded  the  motion.  If  they 
would  pardon  a  personal  reference  he  would  give 
them  his  reasons.  He  had  come  to  this  country 
to  make  his  fortune ;  now  he  was  anxious  to  make 
enough  to  enable  him  to  go  home  with  some  de- 
gree of  honor.  His  home  held  everything  that 
was  dear  to  him.  Between  him  and  that  home, 
between  him  and  all  that  was  good  and  beautiful 
and  honorable,  stood  whisky.  "  I  am  ashamed  to 
confess,"  and  the  flush  deepened  on  his  cheek  and 
his  lips  grew  thinner,  "  that  I  feel  the  need  of 
some  such  league."  His  handsome  face,  his  per- 
fect style  of  address,  learned  possibly  in  the 
"  Union,"  but,  more  than  all,  his  show  oi"  nerve—  • 


Black  Rock.  93 

for  these  men  knew  how  to  value  that — made  a 
strong  impression  on  his  audience  ;  but  there  were 
no  following  cheers. 

Mr.  Craig  appeared  hopeful ;  but  on  Mrs.  Mayor's 
face  there  was  a  look  of  wistful,  tender  pity,  for 
she  knew  how  much  the  words  had  cost  the  lad. 

Then  up  rose  a  sturdy,  hard-featured  man,  with 
a  burr  in  his  voice  that  proclaimed  his  birth. 
His  name  was  George  Crawford,  I  afterward 
learned,  but  every  one  called  him  Geordie.  He 
was  a  character  in  his  wa}'',  fond  of  his  glass; 
but  though  he  was  never  known  to  refuse  a  drink, 
he  was  never  known  to  be  drunk.  He  took  his 
drink,  for  the  most  part,  with  bread  and  cheese 
in  his  own  shack,  or  with  a  friend  or  two  in  a 
sober,  respectable  way,  but  never  could  be  induced 
to  join  the  wild  carousals  in  Slavin's  saloon.  He 
made  the  highest  wages,  but  was  far  too  true  a 
Scot  to  spend  his  money  recklessly.  Every  one 
waited  eagerly  to  hear  Geordie's  mind.  He  spoke 
solemnly,  as  befitted  a  Scotsman  expressing  a  de- 
liberate opinion,  and  carefully,  as  if  choosing  his 
best  English,  for  when  Geordie  became  excited 
no  one  in  Black  Rock  could  understand  him. 

"  Maister  Chairman,"  said  Geordie,  "  I'm  aye 
for  temperance  in  a'  things."  There  was  a  shout 
of  laughter,  at  which  Geordie  gazed  around  in 
pained  surprise.     "  I'll  no'  deny,"  he  went  on  in 


94  Black  Rock. 

an  explanatory  tone,  "  that  I  tak  ma  momin', 
an'  maybe  a  nip  at  noon,  an'  a  wee  drap  aifter  wark 
in  the  evenin',  an'  whiles  a  sip  o'  toddy  wi'  a  freen 
thae  cauld  nichts.  But  I'm  no'  a  guzzler,  an'  I 
dinna  gang  in  wi'  thae  loons  flingiu'  aboot  guid 
money." 

"  An'  that's  thrue  for  you,  me  bye,"  interrupted 
a  rich  Irish  brogue,  to  the  delight  of  the  crowd 
and  the  amazement  of  Geordie,  who  went  calmly 
on: 

"  An'  I  canna  bide  yon  saloon  whaur  they  sell 
sic  awfu'-like  stuff — it's  mair  like  lye  nor  good 
whusky — and  whaur  ye're  never  sure  o'  yer  richt 
change.  It's  an  awfu'-like  place.  Mon !  " — and 
Geordie  began  to  warm  up — "  ye  can  juist  smell 
the  sulphur  when  ye  gang  in.  But  I  dinna  care 
about  thae  temperance  soceeities,  Avi'  their  pledges 
an'  havers ;  an'  I  canna  see  what  hairm  can  come 
till  a  mon  by  takin'  a  bottle  o'  guid  Glenlivet  hame 
wi'  him.     I  canna  bide  thae  teetotal  buddies." 

Geordie's  speech  was  followed  by  loud  applause, 
partly  appreciative  of  Geordie  himself,  but  large- 
ly sympathetic  with  his  position. 

Two  or  three  men  followed  in  the  same  strain, 
advocating  a  league  for  mutual  improvement  and 
social  purposes,  but  without  the  teetotal  pledge ; 
they  were  against  the  saloon,  but  didn't  see  why 
they  should  not  take  a  drink  now  and  then. 


Black  Rock.  95 

Finally  the  manager  rose  to  support  bis  "  friend 
Mistah — ah — Cwafoad,"  ridiculing  the  idea  of  a 
total  abstinence  pledge  as  fanatical  and  indeed 
"absuad."  lie  was  opposed  to  the  saloon,  and 
would  like  to  see  a  club  formed,  with  a  comfort- 
able club-roora,  books,  magazines,  pictures,  games 
— anything, "  dontcheknow,  to  make  the  time  pass 
pleasantly ; "  but  it  was  "  absuad  to  ask  men  to 
abstain  f worn  a  pwopah  use  of — aw — nouwishing 
dwinks" — because  some  men  made  beasts  of 
themselves.  He  concluded  by  offering  fifty  dol- 
lars toward  the  support  of  such  a  club. 

The  current  of  feeling  was  setting  strongly 
against  the  total  abstinence  idea,  and  Craig's  face 
was  hard  and  his  eyes  gleamed  like  coals.  Then 
he  did  a  bit  of  generalship.  He  proposed  that 
since  they  had  the  two  plans  clearly  before  them 
they  should  take  a  few  minutes'  intermission  in 
which  to  make  up  their  minds,  and  he  was  sure  they 
would  be  glad  to  have  Mrs.  Mavor  sing.  In  the 
interval  tiie  men  talked  in  groups,  eagerly,  even 
fierce!}'',  hampered  seriously  in  the  forceful  ex- 
pression of  their  opinion  by  the  presence  of  Mrs. 
Mavor,  who  glided  from  group  to  group,  drop- 
ping a  word  here  and  a  smile  there.  She  re- 
minded me  of  a  general  riding  along  the  ranks, 
bracing  his  men  for  the  coming  battle.  She 
paused  beside  Geordie,  spoke  earnestly  for  a  few 


96  Black  Rock. 

moments,  while  Geordie  gazed  solemnly  at  her, 
and  then  she  came  back  to  Billy  in  the  corner 
near  me.  What  she  was  saying  I  could  not  hear, 
but  poor  Billy  was  protesting,  spreading  his  hands 
out  aimlessly  before  him,  but  gazing  at  her  the 
while  in  dumb  admiration.  Then  she  came  to 
me. 

"  Poor  Billy,  he  Avas  good  to  my  husband,"  she 
said  softly,  "  and  he  has  a  good  heart. " 

"  He's  not  much  to  look  at,  "  I  could  not  help 
saying. 

"  The  oyster  hides  its  pearl,"  she  answered,  a 
little  reproachfully. 

"  The  shell  is  apparent  enough,"  I  replied,  for 
the  mischief  was  in  me. 

"  Ah,  yes, "  she  replied  softly,  "  but  it  is  the 
pearl  we  love." 

I  moved  over  beside  Billy,  whose  eyes  were  fol- 
lowing Mrs.  Mavor  as  she  went  to  speak  to  Mr. 
Craig. 

"  Well,"  I  said,  "  you  all  seem  to  have  a  high 
opinion  of  her." 

"  A  'igh  hopinion  ? "  he  replied  in  deep  scorn. 
"A  'igh  hopinion,  you  calls  it  ? " 

"  What  would  you  call  it  ?  "  I  asked,  wishing 
to  draw  him  out. 

"  Oi  don't  call  it  nothink,"  he  replied,  spread- 
ing out  his  rough  hands. 


Black  Rock.  97 

**  She  seems  very  nice,"  I  said,  indifferently, 

lie  drew  his  e^'^es  away  from  Mrs.  Mavor  and 
gave  attention  to  me  for  the  first  time. 

"  Nice  !  "  he  repeated  with  fine  contempt ;  and 
then  he  added  impressively :  "  Them  as  don't 
know  shouldn't  say  nothink." 

"  You  are  right,"  I  answered  earnestly,  "  and  I 
am  quite  of  your  opinion." 

He  gave  me  a  quick  glance  out  of  his  little, 
deep-set,  dark-blue  eyes,  and  opened  his  heart  to 
me.  He  told  me,  in  his  quaint  speech,  how  again 
and  again  she  had  taken  him  in  and  nursed  him 
and  encouraged  him,  and  sent  him  out  with  a  new 
heart  for  his  battle,  until,  for  very  shame's  sake 
at  his  own  miserable  weakness,  he  had  kept  out  of 
her  way  for  many  months,  going  steadily  down. 

"  Now,  Oi  hain't  got  no  grip ;  but  when  she 
says  to  me  to-night,  says  she,  '  Oh,  Billy  ' — she 
calls  me  Billy  to  myself  "  (this  with  a  touch  of 
pride) — "  '  oh,  Bilh^,'  says  she,  '  we  must  'ave  a 
total  luibstinence  league  to-night,  an'  Oi  want 
you  to  'elp ! '  an'  she  keeps  a-lookin'  at  me  with 
those  heyes  o'  her'n  till,  if  you  believe  me,  sir," 
lowering  his  voice  to  an  emphatic  whisper, 
"  though  Oi  knowed  Oi  couldn't  'elp  none,  afore 
Oi  knowed  Oi  promised  'er  Oi  would.  It's  'er 
heyes.  When  them  heyes  says  'do,'  hup  you 
steps* an'  'does.'" 
7 


98  Black  Rock. 

I  remembered  my  first  look  into  her  eyes,  and 
I  could  quite  understand  Billy's  submission.  Just 
as  she  began  to  sing  I  went  over  to  Geordie  and 
took  my  seat  beside  hiiu.  She  began  with  an 
English  slumber  song,  "  Sleep,  Baby,  Sleep  " — one 
of  Barry  Cornwall's,  I  think — and  then  sang  a 
love  song  with  the  refrain,  "  Love  once  again  ; " 
but  no  thrills  came  to  me,  and  I  began  to  wonder 
if  her  spell  over  me  was  broken.  Geordie,  who 
had  been  listening  somewhat  indifferently,  en- 
couraged me,  however,  by  saying :  "  She's  just 
pittin'  aff  time,  with  thae  feckless  sangs ;  mon, 
there's  nae  grup  till  them."  But  when,  after  a 
few  minutes'  pause,  she  began  "  My  Ain  Fireside," 
Geordie  gave  a  sigh  of  satisfaction.  "Aye,  that's 
somethin'  like,"  and  when  she  finished  the  first 
verse  he  gave  me  a  dig  in  the  ribs  with  his  elbow 
that  took  my  breath  away,  saying  in  a  whisper  : 
"  Mon,  hear  till  3'on,  wull  ye  ? "  And  again  I  found 
the  spell  upon  me.  It  was  not  the  voice,  after 
all,  but  the  great  soul  behind  that  thrilled  and 
compelled.  She  was  seeing,  feeling,  living  what 
she  sang,  aud  her  voice  showed  us  her  heart. 
The  cozy  fireside,  with  its  bonnie,  blitlie  blink, 
where  no  care  could  abide,  but  only  peace  and 
love,  was  vividly  present  to  her,  and  as  she  sang 
we  saw  it  too.  When  she  came  to  the  last 
verse — 


Black  Rock.  99 

**  When  I  draw  in  my  stool 
On  my  cozy  hearthstane, 
My  heart  loups  sae  licht 
I  scarce  ken't  for  my  ain," 

there  -was  a  feeling  of  tears  in  the  flowing  song, 
and  we  knew  the  words  had  brought  her  a 
picture  of  the  fireside  that  w^oukl  always  seem 
empty.  I  felt  the  tears  in  ]ny  eyes,  and,  wonder- 
ing  at  myself,  I  cast  a  stealthy  glance  at  the  men 
about  me  ;  and  I  saw  that  they,  too,  were  looking 
through  their  hearts'  windows  upon  firesides  and 
ingle-nooks  that  gleamed  from  far. 

And  then  she  sang  "  The  Auld  Hoose,"  and 
Geordie,  giving  me  another  poke,  said,  "  That's 
ma  ain  sang,"  and  when  I  asked  him.  what  he 
meant  he  whispered  fiercely,  "  "Wheesht,  mon  ! " 
and  I  did,  for  his  face  looked  dangerous. 

In  a  pause  between  the  verses  I  heard  Geordie 
saying  to  himself:  "Aye,  I  maun  gie  it  up,  I 
doot." 

«  What  ?  "  I  ventured. 

"Naething  ava."  And  then  he  added  impa- 
tiently, "  Mon,  but  ye're  an  inqueesitive  buddie, " 
after  which  I  subsided  into  silence. 

Immediately  upon  the  meeting  being  called  to 
order  Mr.  Craig  made  his  speech,  and  it  was  a 
fine  bit  of  work.  Beginning  with  a  clear  state- 
ment of  the  object  in  view,  he  set  in  contrast  the 


100  Black  Rock. 

two  kinds  of  leagues  proposed.  One,  a  league  of 
men  who  would  take  whisky  in  moderation  ;  the 
other,  a  league  of  men  who  were  pledged  to  drink 
none  themselves  and  to  prevent  in  every  honor- 
able "way  others  from  drinking.  There  was  no 
long  argument,  but  he  spoke  at  white  heat ;  and 
as  he  appealed  to  the  men  to  think,  each  not  of 
hinself  alone,  but  of  the  others  as  well,  theyeai-n- 
ing,  born  of  his  long  months  of  desire  and  of  toil, 
vibrated  in  his  voice  and  reached  to  the  heart. 
Many  men  looked  uncomfortable  and  uncertain, 
and  even  the  manager  looked  none  too  cheerful. 

At  this  critical  moment  the  crowd  got  a  shock. 
Billy  Breen  shuffled  out  to  the  front,  and  in  a 
voice  shaking  with  nervousness  and  emotion  began 
to  speak,  his  large,  coarse  hands  wandering  trem- 
ulously about. 

"  Oi  hain't  no  bloomin'  temp'rance  horator,  an' 
mayhap  Oi  hain't  no  right  to  speak  'ere,  but  01 
got  somethin'  to  saigii  [say]  an'  Oi'm  a-goin'  to 
saigh  it. 

"  Parson,  'e  says  is  it  wisky  or  no  wisky  in  this 
'ere  club  ?  If  ye  hask  me,  wich  [which]  ^^e  don't, 
then  no  wisky,  says  Oi ;  an'  if  ye  hask  why  ? — 
look  at  me  !  Once  Oi  could  mine  more  coal  than 
hany  man  in  the  camp ;  now  Oi  hain't  fit  to  be  a 
sorter.  Once  Oi  'ad  some  pride  an'  hambition  : 
now    Oi   'anffs  round  a-waitin'  for  some  one  t' 


Black  Rock.  loi 

saigh,  *  'Ere,  Billy,  'ave  summat.'  Once  Oi  made 
good  paigh  [pay],  an'  sent  it  'onie  reg'lar  to  my 
pore  old  mother  (she's  in  the  wukus  no\Y,  she  is) ; 
Oi  hain't  sent  'er  hany  for  a  year  an'  a  'alf.  Once 
Billy  was  a  good  fellow  an'  'ad  plenty  o'  friends  ; 
now  Slavin  'isself  kicks  un  hout,  'e  does.  Why  ? 
"why?"  His  voice  rose  to  a  shriek.  "Because 
when  Billy  'ad  money  in  'is  pocket,  hevery  man 
in  this  bloomin'  camp  as  meets  un  at  hevery  corner 
says,  '  'Ello,  Billy,  wat'll  ye  'ave  ? '  An'  there's 
wisky  at  Slavin's,  an'  there's  wisky  in  the  shacks, 
an'  hevery  'oliday  an'  hevery  Sunday  there's 
wisky,  an'  w'en  ye  feel  bad  it's  wisky,  an'  w'enye 
feel  good  it's  wisky,  an'  hevery  where  an'halways 
it's  wisky,  wisky,  wisky !  An'  now  ye're  goin'  to 
stop  it,  an'  'ow  ?  T'  manager,  'e  says  picters  an' 
magazines.  'E  takes  'is  wine  an'  'is  beer  like  a 
gen'lman,  'e  does,  an'  'e  don't  'ave  no  use  for  Billy 
Breen.  Bilh^,  'e's  a  beast,  an'  t'  manager,  'e 
kicks  un  hout.  But  supposin'  Billy  wants  to  stop 
bein'  a  beast  an'  starts  a-tryin'  to  be  a  man  a,^x^n, 
an'  w'en  'e  gits  good  an'  dr}'^,  along  comes  some 
un  an'  says,  '  'Ello,  Billy,  'ave  a  smile,'  it  hain't 
picters  nor  magazines  'ud  stop  un  then.  Picters 
an'  magazines !  Gawd  'elp  the  man  as  hain't 
nothin'  but  picters  an'  magazines  to  'elp  un  w'en 
'e's  got  a  devil  hinside  an'  a  devil  houtside 
a-shovin'  an'  a-drawin'  of  un  down  to  'ell.     An' 


102  Black  Rock. 

that's  w'ere  Oi'm  a-goin'  straight,  an'  yer  bloomin' 
league,  wisky  or  no  wisky,  can't  'elp  me.  But," 
and  he  lifted  his  trembling  hands  above  his  head, 
"  if  ye  stop  the  wisky  a-fiowin'  round  this  camp, 
ye'll  stop  some  o'  these  lads  that's  a-follerin'  me 
'ard.  Yes,  you !  an'  you !  an'  you  ! "  and  his 
voice  rose  to  a  wild  scream  as  he  shook  a  trem- 
bling finger  at  one  and  another. 

"  Mon,  it's  fair  grewsome  tae  hear  him,"  said 
Geordie ;  "  he's  no'  canny  ; "  and  reaching  out 
for  Billy  as  he  went  stumbling  past,  he  pulled 
him  down  to  a  seat  beside  him,  saying :  "  Sit 
doon,  lad,  sit  doon.  We'll  mak  a  mon  o'ye3'et." 
Then  he  rose  and,  using  many  r's,  said  :  "  Mais- 
ter  Chairman,  I  doot  we'll  juist  hae  to  gie  it  up." 

"  Give  it  up  ?  "  called  out  Nixon.  "  Give  up 
the  league  ? " 

"  Na !  na !  lad,  but  juist  the  wee  drap  whusky. 
It's  nae  that  guid,  onyway,  an'  it's  a  terrible 
price.  Mon,  gin  ye  gang  tae  Henderson's  in 
Buchanan  Street,  in  Gleska,  ye  ken,  ye'll  get 
mair  for  three  an'  saxpence  than  ye  wull  at 
Slavin's  for  five  dollars.  An'  it'll  no'  pit  ye  mad 
like  yon  stuff,  but  it  gangs  doon  smooth  an'  saft- 
like.  But  "  (regretfully)  "  ye  no'  can  get  it  here ; 
an'  I'm  thinkin'  I'll  juist  sign  yon  teetotal  thing." 
And  up  he  strode  to  the  table  and  put  his  name 
down  in  the  book  Craig  had  ready.    Then  to  Billy 


Black  Rock.  103 

he  said :  "  Come  awa,  lad  I  pit  yer  name  doon,  an' 
we'll  Stan'  by  ye." 

Poor  Billy  looked  around  helplessly,  his  nerve 
all  gone,  and  sat  still.  There  was  a  swift  rustle 
of  garments,  and  Mrs.  Mavor  was  beside  him, 
and  in  a  voice  that  only  Billy  and  I  could  hear 
said: 

"  You'll  sign  with  me,  Billy  ? " 

Billy  gazed  at  her  with  a  hopeless  look  in  his 
eyes  and  shook  his  little  head.  She  leaned 
slightly  toward  him,  smiling  brightly,  and 
touching  his  arm  gently  said  : 

"Come,  Billy,  there's  no  fear,"  and  in  a  lower 
voice,  "  God  will  help  you." 

As  Billy  went  up,  following  Mrs.  Mavor  close, 
a  hush  fell  on  the  men  until  he  had  put  his  name 
to  the  pledge  ;  then  they  came  up,  man  by  man, 
and  signed.  But  Craig  sat  with  his  head  down 
till  I  touched  his  shoulder.  He  took  my  hand 
and  held  it  fast,  saying  over  and  over,  under  his 
breath,  «  Thank  God  !  thank  God ! " 

And  so  the  league  was  made. 


104  Black  RocL 


CHAPTER  yi. 

BLACK    BOCK   KELIGION. 

"When  I  grow  weary  with  the  conventions  of 
religion  and  sick  in  my  soul  from  feeding  upon 
husks  that  the  churches  too  often  offer  me  in  the 
shape  of  elaborate  services  and  eloquent  discourses, 
so  that  in  my  sickness  I  doubt  and  doubt,  then  I 
go  back  to  the  communion  in  Black  Rock  and  the 
days  preceding  it,  and  the  fever  and  the  weari- 
ness leave  me  and  I  grow  humble  and  strong. 
The  simplicity  and  rugged  grandeur  of  the  faith, 
tlie  humble  gratitude  of  the  rough  men  I  see 
about  the  table,  and  the  calm  radiance  of  one 
saintly  face  rest  and  recall  me. 

Kot  its  most  enthusiastic  apologist  would  call 
Black  Eock  a  religious  community,  but  it  pos- 
sessed in  a  marked  degree  that  eminent  Christian 
virtue  of  tolerance.  All  creeds,  all  shades  of  re- 
ligious opinions  were  allowed,  and  it  was  gener- 
ally conceded  that  one  was  as  good  as  another. 
It  is  fair  to  say,  however,  that  Black  Rock's  cath- 
olicity was  negative  rather  than  positive.  The 
only  religion  objectionable  was  that  insisted  upon 


Black  Rock.  105 

as  a  necessity.  It  never  occurred  to  any  one  to 
consider  religion  other  than  as  a  respectable,  if 
not  ornamental,  addition  to  life  in  older  lands. 

During  the  weeks  following  the  making  of  the 
league,  ho\vever,  this  negative  attitude  toward 
things  religious  gave  place  to  one  of  keen  investi- 
gation and  criticism.  The  indifference  passed 
away,  and  with  it,  in  a  large  measure,  the  toler- 
ance. Mr.  Craig  was  responsible  for  the  former 
of  these  changes,  but  hardly,  in  fairness,  could  he 
be  held  responsible  for  the  latter.  If  any  one 
more  than  another  was  to  be  blamed  for  the  rise 
of  intolerance  in  the  village,  that  man  Avas  Geordie 
Crawford.  lie  had  his  "  lines  "  from  the  Estab- 
lished Kirk  of  Scotland,  and  when  Mr.  Craig  an- 
nounced his  intention  of  having  the  sacrament  of 
the  Lord's  Supper  observed,  Geordie  produced  his 
"  lines  "  and  promptly  handed  them  in.  As  no 
other  man  in  the  village  was  equipped  with  like 
spiritual  credentials,  Geordie  constituted  himself 
a  kind  of  kirk  session,  charged  with  the  double 
duty  of  guarding  the  entrance  to  the  Lord's  Table 
and  of  keeping  an  eye  upon  the  theological  opin- 
ions of  the  community,  and  more  particularly 
upon  such  members  of  it  as  gave  evidence  of  pos' 
sessing  any  opinions  definite  enough  for  state- 
ment. 

It  came  to  be  Mr.  Craig's  habit  to  drop  into  the 


io6  Black  Rock. 

league  room,  and  toward  the  close  of  the  evening 
to  have  a  short  Scripture  lesson  from  the  gospels. 
Geordie's  opportunity  came  after  the  meeting 
was  over  and  Mr.  Craig  had  gone  away.  The 
men  would  hang  about  and  talk  the  lesson  over, 
expressing  opinions  favorable  or  unfavorable  as 
appeared  to  them  good.  Then  it  was  that  all 
sorts  of  views,  religious  and  otherwise,  were  aired 
and  examined.  The  orginality  of  the  ideas,  the 
absolute  disregard  of  the  authority  of  church  or 
creed,  the  frankness  with  which  opinions  were 
stated,  and  the  forcefulness  of  the  language  in 
Avhich  they  were  expressed,  combined  to  make  the 
discussions  altogether  marvelous.  The  passage 
between  Abe  Baker,  the  stage  driver,  and  Geordie 
was  })articularly  rich.  It  followed  upon  a  very 
telling  lesson  on  the  parable  of  the  Pharisee  and 
the  publican. 

The  chief  actors  in  that  wonderful  story  were 
transferred  to  the  Black  Rock  stage  and  were 
presented  in  miner's  costume.  Abe  was  particu- 
larly well  pleased  with  the  scoring  of  the"  blanked 
old  rooster  who  crowed  so  blanked  high,"  and 
somewhat  incensed  at  the  quiet  remark  interjected 
by  Geordie,  that  "  it  Avas  nae  credit  till  a  mon  tae 
be  a  sinner ; "  and  when  Geordie  went  on  to  urge 
the  importance  of  right  conduct  and  respectabilitv, 
Abe  was  led  to  pour  forth  vials  of  contemptuous 


Black  Rock.  107 

wrath  upon  the  Pharisees  and  hypocrites  who 
thought  themselves  better  than  other  people. 
Eut  Geordie  was  quite  unruffled  and  lamented  the 
ignorance  of  men  who,  brought  up  in  "  Epeesco- 
pawlyun  or  Methody  ''  churches,  could  hardly  be 
expected  to  detect  the  Antinoraian  or  Arminian 
heresies. 

"  Aunty  Nomyun  or  Uncle  Nomyun,"  replied 
Abe,  boiling  hot,  "  my  mother  was  a  Methodist, 
and  I'll  back  any  blanked  Methodist  against  any 
blankety  blank  longfaced,  lantern-jawed,  skinflint 
Presbyterian,"  and  this  he  was  eager  to  maintain 
to  any  man's  satisfaction  if  he  would  step  out- 
side. 

Geordie  was  quite  unmoved,  but  hastened  to 
assure  Abe  that  he  meant  no  disrespect  to  his 
mother,  who  he  had  "  nae  doot  was  a  clever 
enough  buddie,  tae  judge  by  her  son."  Abe  was 
speedily  appeased  and  offered  to  set  up  the  drinks 
all  around.  But  Geordie,  with  evident  reluctance, 
had  to  decline,  saying,  "ISTa,  na,  lad.  Pm  a 
league  mou,  ye  ken,"  and  I  was  sure  that  Geordie 
at  that  moment  felt  that  membership  in  the 
league  had  its  drawbacks. 

Nor  was  Geordie  too  sure  of  Craig's  orthodoxy  ; 
while  as  to  Mrs.  Mavor,  whose  slave  he  was,  he 
was  in  the  habit  of  lamenting  her  doctrinal  con- 
dition : 


io8  Black  Rock. 

"  She's  a  fine  wuraman,  nae  doot ;  but,  puir 
cratur,  she's  fair  carried  awa'  wi'  the  errors  o' 
thae  Epeescopawlyims." 

It  fell  to  Geordie,  therefore,  as  a  sacred  duty, 
in  view  of  the  laxity  of  those  who  seemed  to  be 
the  pillars  of  the  church,  to  be  all  the  more  Avatch- 
ful  and  unyielding.  But  he  was  delightfully  in- 
consistent when  confronted  with  particulars.  In 
conversation  with  him  one  night  after  one  of  the 
meetings,  when  he  had  been  specially  hard  upon 
the  ignorant  and  godless,  I  innocently  changed 
the  subject  to  Billy  Breen,  whom  Geordie  had 
taken  to  his  shack  since  the  night  of  the  league. 
He  was  very  proud  of  Billj^'s  success  in  the  fight 
against  whisky,  the  credit  of  which  he  divided 
unevenly  between  Mrs.  Mavor  and  himself. 

"He's  fair  daft  aboot  her,"  he  explained  to 
me,  "  an'  I'll  no'  deny  but  she's  a  great  help,  aye, 
a  verra  conseederable  asseestance  ;  but,  mon,  she 
doesna  ken  the  whusky  an'  the  inside  o'  a  man 
that's  wantin'  it.  Aye,  puir  buddie,  she  diz  her 
pairt,  an'  when  ye're  a  bit  restless  an'  thrawn 
aifter  yer  day's  wark,  it's  like  a  walk  in  a  bonnie 
glen  on  a  simmer  eve,  with  the  birds  liltin'  aboot, 
tae  sit  in  yon  roomie  an'  hear  her  sing;  but  when 
the  night  is  on  an'  ye  canna  sleep,  but  wauken 
wi'  an  awfu'  thurst  an'  wild  dreams  o'  cozy  fire- 
sides an'  the  bonnie  sparklin'  glosses,  as  it  is  wi' 


Black  Rock.  109 

puir  Billy,  aye,  it's  then  ye  need  a  raon  wi'  a  guid 
grup  beside  ye." 

"  What  do  you  do  then,  Geordie  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Go,  aye,  I  juist  gang  for  a  bit  walk  wi'  the  lad, 
an'  then  pits  the  kettle  on  an'  maks  a  cup  o'  tea 
or  coffee,  an'  aff  he  gangs  tae  sleep  like  a  bairn." 

"  Poor  Billy,"  I  said  pityingly,  "  there's  no  hope 
for  him  in  the  future,  I  fear." 

"  Hoot  awa,  mon,"  said  Geordie  quickly.  "  Ye 
wadna  keep  oot  a  puir  cratur  frae  creepin'  in  that's 
daein'  his  best  ?  " 

"  But,  Geordie,"  I  remonstrated,  "  he  doesn't 
know  anything  of  the  doctrines.  I  don't  believe 
he  could  give  us  '  The  Chief  End  of  Man.'  " 

"  An'  wha's  tae  blame  for  that  ? "  said  Geordie 
with  fine  indignation.  "  An'  maybe  you  remem- 
ber the  prood  Pharisee  an'  the  puir  wumman 
that  cam'  creepin'  in  ahint  the  Maister." 

The  mingled  tenderness  and  indignation  in 
Geordie's  face  were  beautiful  to  see,  so  I  meekly 
answered  : 

"  Well,  I  hope  Mr.  Craig  won't  be  too  strict 
■with  the  boys." 

Geordie  shot  a  suspicious  glance  at  me,  but  I 
kept  my  face  like  a  summer  morn,  anA  he  replied 
cautiously : 

''  Aye,  he's  no'  that  streect ;  but  he  maun  exer- 
ceese  discreemination." 


no  Black  Rock. 

Geordie  was  none  the  less  determined,  however, 
that  Billy  should  "  come  forrit "  ;  but  as  to  the 
manager,  who  was  a  member  of  the  English 
Church,  and  some  others  who  had  been  confirmed 
years  ago  and  had  forgotten  much  and  denied 
more,  he  was  extremely  doubtful,  and  expressed 
himself  in  very  decided  words  to  the  min- 
ister : 

"  Ye'U  no'  be  askin'  forrit  thae  Epeescopawlyun 
buddies.     They  juist  ken  naething  ava." 

But  Mr.  Craig  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  and 
said,  "'Him  that  cometh  unto  Me  I  will  in  no 
wise  cast  out,'  "  and  Geordie  was  silent,  though  he 
continued  doubtful. 

"With  all  these  somewhat  fantastic  features, 
however,  there  was  no  mistaking  the  earnest 
spirit  of  the  men.  The  meetings  grew  larger 
every  night  and  the  interest  became  more  in- 
tense. The  singing  became  different.  The  men  no 
longer  simply  shouted,  but  as  Mr.  Craig  would  call 
attention  to  the  sentiment  of  the  hymn  the  voices 
would  attune  themselves  to  the  words.  Instead 
of  encouraging  anything  like  emotional  excite- 
ment, Mr.  Craig  seemed  to  fear  it. 

"  These  ehaps  are  easily  stirred  up,'*  he  would 
say,  "  and  I  am  anxious  that  they  should  know  ex- 
actly what  they  are  doing.  It  is  far  too  serious  a 
business  to  trifle  with." 


Black  Rock.  Ill 

Although  Graeme  did  not  go  down-stairs  to  the 
meetings,  he  could  not  but  feel  the  throb  of  the 
emotiou  beating  in  the  heart  of  the  community, 
I  used  to  detail  for  his  benefit,  and  sometimes  for 
his  amusement,  the  incidents  of  each  night.  But 
I  never  felt  quite  easy  in  dwelling  upon  the 
humorous  features  in  Mrs.  Mayor's  presence, 
although  Craig  did  not  appear  to  mind.  His 
manner  with  Graeme  was  perfect.  Openly  anx- 
ious to  win  him  to  his  side,  he  did  not  improve 
the  occasion  and  vex  him  with  exhortation.  He 
would  not  take  him  at  a  disadvantage,  though,  as 
I  afterward  found,  this  was  not  his  sole  reason, 
for  his  method.  Mrs.  Mavor,  too,  showed  her- 
self in  wise  and  tender  light.  She  might  have 
been  his  sister,  so  frank  was  she  and  so  openly 
affectionate,  laughing  at  his  f retf ulness  and  sooth- 
ing his  weariness. 

Never  were  better  comrades  than  we  four,  and 
the  bright  days  speeding  so  swiftly  on  drew  us 
nearer  to  one  another. 

But  the  bright  days  came  to  an  end,  for  Graeme, 
when  once  he  was  able  to  go  about,  became  anx- 
ious  to  get  back  to  the  camp.  And  so  the  last 
day  came,  a  day  I  remember  well.  It  was  a 
bright,  crisp  winter  day. 

The  air  was  shimmering  in  the  frosty  light.  The 
mountains,    with  their  shining    heads  piercing 


112  Black  Rock. 

through  light  clouds  into  that  wonderful  blue  of 
the  western  sky  and  their  feet  pushed  into  the 
pine  masses,  gazed  down  upon  Black  Rock  witn 
calm,  kindly  looks  on  their  old  gray  faces.  How 
one  grows  to  love  them,  steadfast  old  friends  ! 
Far  up  among  the  jnnes  we  could  see  the  smoke 
of  the  engine  at  the  works,  and  so  still  and  so  clear 
was  the  mountain  air  that  we  could  hear  the  puff 
of  the  steam  and  from  far  down  the  river  the  mur- 
mur of  the  rapids.  The  majestic  silence,  the  tender 
beauty,  the  peace,  the  loneliness,  too,  came  steal- 
ing in  upon  us  as  we  three,  leaving  Mrs.  Mavor 
behind  us,  marched  arm  in  arm  down  the  street. 
"We  had  not  gone  far  on  our  way,  when  Graeme, 
turning  round,  stood  a  moment  looking  back, 
then  waved  his  hand  in  farewell.  Mrs.  Mavor 
was  at  her  window,  smiling  and  waving  in  return. 
They  had  grown  to  be  great  friends,  these  two, 
and  seemed  to  have  arrived  at  some  understanding. 
Certainly  Graeme's  manner  to  her  was  not  tliat 
he  bore  to  other  women.  His  half-quizzical, 
somewhat  superior  air  of  mocking  devotion  gave 
place  to  a  simple,  earnest  almost  tender  respect 
very  new  to  him,  but  very  winning. 

As  he  stood  there  waving  his  farewell,  I  glanced 
at  his  face  and  saw  for  a  moment  what  I  had  not 
seen  for  years,  a  faint  flush  on  Graeme's  cheek  and 
a  light  of  simple,  earnest  faith  in  his  eyes.     It 


Black  Rock.  113 

reminded  me  of  my  first  look  of  him  when  he  had 
come  up  for  his  matriculation  to  the  'varsity.  He 
stood  on  the  campus  looking  up  at  the  noble  old 
pile,  and  there  was  the  same  bright,  trustful, 
earnest  look  on  his  boyish  face. 

I  know  not  what  spirit  possessed  me ;  it  may 
have  been  the  pain  of  the  memory  working  in  me, 
but  I  said,  coarsely  enough,  "  It's  no  use,  Graeme, 
my  boy.  I  would  fall  in  love  with  her  myself, 
but  there  would  be  no  chance  even  for  me." 

The  flush  slowly  darkened  as  he  turned  and 
said  deliberately  : 

"  It's  not  like  you,  Conoor,  to  be  an  ass  of  that 
peculiar  kind.  Love  ! — not  exactly  !  She  won't 
fall  in  love  unless " 

And  he  stopped  abruptly  with  his  eyes  upon 
Craig. 

But  Craig  met  him  with  unshrinking  gaze, 
quietly  remarking,  "Her  heart  is  under  the 
pines;"  and  we  moved  on,  each  thinking  his 
own  thoughts  and  guessing  at  the  thoughts  of 
the  others. 

We  were  on  our  way  to  Craig's  shack,  and  as 
we  passed  the  saloon  Slavin  stepped  from  the 
door  with  a  salutation.     Graeme  paused. 

"  Hello,  Slavin !  I  got  rather  the  worst  of  it, 
didn't  I  ? " 

Slavin  came  near  and  said  earnestly : 
8 


114  Black  Rock. 

"  It  was  a  dirty  tbrick  altogether.  You'll  not 
think  it  was  moine,  Mr.  Graeme." 

"  No,  no,  Slavin !  You  stood  up  like  a  man," 
said  Graeme  cheerfully. 

"  An'  you  bate  me  fair  ;  an'  bedad  it  was  a  nate 
one  that  laid  me  out ;  an'  there's  no  grudge  in 
me  heart  till  ye." 

"  All  right,  Slavin.  "We'll  perhaps  understand 
each  other  better  after  this." 

"  An'  that's  tbrue  for  yez,  sor  ;  an'  I'll  see  that 
your  byes  don't  get  anny  more  than  they  ask 
for,"  replied  Slavin,  backing  away. 

"  And  I  hope  that  won't  be  much,"  put  in  Mr. 
Craig  ;  but  Slavin  only  grinned. 

"When  we  came  to  Craig's  shack  Graeme  was 
glad  to  rest  in  the  big  chair. 

Craig  made  him  a  cup  of  tea,  while  I  smoked, 
admiring  much  the  deft  neatness  of  the  minister's 
housekeeping  and  the  gentle,  almost  motherly 
way  he  had  with  Graeme. 

In  our  talk  we  drifted  into  the  future,  and  Craig 
let  us  see  what  were  his  ambitions.  The  railroad 
was  soon  to  come.  The  resources  were,  as  yet, 
unexplored,  but  enough  was  known  to  assure  a 
great  future  for  British  Columbia.  As  he  talked 
his  enthusiasm  grew  and  carried  us  away.  With 
the  eye  of  a  general  he  surveyed  the  country, 
fixed  the  strategic  points  which  the  Church  must 


Black  Rock.  ii5 

seize  upon.  Ei^jht  good  men  would  hold  the 
country  from  Fort  Steele  to  the  coast  and  from 
Kootenay  to  Cariboo. 

"  The  Church  must  be  in  with  the  railroad. 
She  must  have  a  hand  in  the  shaping  of  the 
country.  It  society  crystallizes  wilhout  her  in- 
fluence the  country  is  lost,  and  British  Columbia 
will  be  another  trapdoor  to  the  bottomless  pit." 

"  "What  do  you  propose  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Organizing  a  little  congregation  here  in  Black 
Rock." 

"  How  many  will  you  get  ? " 

"  Don't  know." 

"  Pretty  hopeless  business,"  I  said. 

"  Hopeless !  hopeless  !  "  he  cried.  "  There  were 
only  twelve  of  us  at  first  to  follow  Him,  and 
rather  a  poor  lot  they  were.  But  He  braced  them 
up  and  they  conquered  the  world." 

"  But  surely  things  are  different,"  said  Graeme. 

"  Things  ?     Yes  !  yes  !     But  He  is  the  same." 

His  face  had  an  exalted  look,  and  his  eyes  were 
gazing  into  far-away  places. 

"  A  dozen  men  in  Black  Rock  with  some  real 
grip  of  Him  would  make  things  go.  "We'll  get 
them,  too,"  he  went  on  in  growing  excitement. 
"  I  believe  in  my  soul  we'll  get  them." 

"  Look  here,  Craig  :  if  you  organize  I'd  like  to 
join,"  said  Graeme  impulsively.   "  I  don't  believe 


Iijo  Black  Rock. 

much  in  your  creed  or  your  Church,  but  I'll  be 
blowed  if  1  don't  believe  in  you." 

Craig  looked  at  him  with  wistful  eyes  and  shook 
his  head. 

"  It  won't  do,  old  chap,  you  know.  I  can't  hold 
you.  You've  got  to  have  a  grip  of  some  one 
better  than  I  am  ;  and  then,  besides,  I  hardly 
like  asking  you  now  " — he  hesitated — "  well,  to 
be  out-and-out,  this  step  must  be  taken  not  for 
my  sake  nor  for  any  man's  sake,  and  I  fancy  that 
perhaps  you  feel  like  pleasing  me  just  now  a 
little." 

"  That  I  do,  old  fellow,"  said  Graeme,  putting 
out  his  hand.  "  111  be  hanged  if  I  won't  do  any- 
thing yon  say." 

"  That's  w^hy  I  won't  say,"  replied  Craig.  Then 
reverently  he  added :  "  The  organization  is  not 
mine.     It  is  my  Master's." 

"  "When  are  you  going  to  begin  ? "  asked 
Graeme. 

"  We  shall  have  our  communion  service  in  two 
-weeks,  and  that  will  be  our  roll-call." 

"  How  many  will  answer  ?  "  I  asked  doubtfully. 

"  I  know  of  three,"  he  said  quiet! 3^ 

"  Three !  There  are  two  hundred  miners  and 
one  hundred  and  fifty  lumbermen  !  Three  !  " 
and  Graeme  looked  at  him  in  amazement.  "  You 
think  it  worth  while  to  organize  three  'i  '* 


Black  Rock.  117 

"  Well,"  replied  Craig,  smiling  for  the  first  time, 
*'  the  organization  won't  be  elaborate,  but  it  will  be 
effective,  and,  besides,  loyalty  demands  obedience." 

We  sat  long  that  afternoon  talking,  shrinking 
from  the  breaking  np  ;  for  we  knew  that  we  were 
about  to  turn  down  a  chapter  in  our  lives  which 
we  should  delight  to  linger  over  in  after  days. 
And  in  my  life  there  is  but  one  brighter.  At 
last  we  said  good-by  and  drove  away,  and  though 
many  farewells  have  come  in  between  that  day 
and  this,  none  is  so  vividly  present  to  me  as  that 
between  us  three  men.  Craig's  manner  with  me 
was  solemn  enough. 

"'He  that  loveth  his  life.'  Good-by.  Don't 
fool  with  this,"  was  what  he  said  to  me. 

But  when  he  turned  to  Graeme  his  whole  face 
lighted  up.  He  took  him  by  the  shoulders  and 
gave  him  a  little  shake,  looking  into  his  eyes  and 
saying  over  and  over  in  a  low,  sweet  tone  : 

"  You'll  come,  old  chap,  you'll  come,  you'll 
come.     Tell  me  you'll  come," 

And  Graeme  could  say  nothing  in  reply,  but 
only  looked  at  him.  Then  they  silently  shook 
hands  and  we  drove  off.  But  long  after  we  had 
got  over  the  mountain  and  into  the  winding  forest 
road  on  the  way  to  the  lumber  camp  the  voice 
kept  vibrating  in  my  henrt,  "  You'll  come,  you'll 
come,"  and  there  was  a  hot  pain  in  my  throat. 


ii8  Black  Rock. 

We  said  little  during  the  drive  to  the  camp. 
Graeme  was  thinking  hard,  and  made  no  answer 
when  I  spoke  to  him  two  or  three  times  till  we 
came  to  the  deep  shadows  of  the  pine  forest,  when 
with  a  little  shiver  he  said  : 

"  It  is  all  a  tangle — a  hopeless  tangle." 

"  Meaning  what?"  I  asked. 

"  This  business  of  religion.  "What  quaint 
varieties  :  Nelson's,  Geordie's,  Billy  Breen's — if 
he  has  any  ;  then  Mrs.  Mavor's — she  is  a  saint,  of 
course  ;  and  that  fellow  Craig's.  What  a  trump 
he  is!  and  without  his  religion  he'd  be  pretty 
much  like  the  rest  of  us.     It  is  too  much  for  me." 

His  mystery  was  not  mine.  The  Black  Rook 
varieties  of  religion  were  certainly  startling,  but 
there  was  undoubtedly  the  streak  of  reality 
through  them  all,  and  that  discovery  I  felt  to  be 
a  distinct  gain. 


Black  Rock.  119 


CHAPTER  VII, 

THE  FIRST  BLACK  ROCK  COMMUNION, 

The  gleam  of  the  great  fire  through  the  win- 
dows  of  the  great  camp  gave  a  kindly  welcome 
as  we  drove  into  the  clearing  in  which  the  shanties 
stood.  Graeme  was  greatly  touched  at  his  en- 
thusiastic welcome  by  the  men.  At  the  supper- 
table  he  made  a  little  speech  of  thanks  for  their 
faithfulness  during  his  absence,  specially  com- 
mending the  care  and  efficiency  of  Mr.  Nelson, 
who  had  had  charge  of  the  camp.  The  men 
cheered  wildly,  Baptiste's  shrill  voice  leading  all. 
Nelson,  being  called  upon,  expressed  in  a  few 
words  his  pleasure  at  seeing  the  boss  back,  and 
thanked  the  men  for  their  support  while  he  had 
been  in  charge. 

The  men  were  for  making  a  night  of  it ;  but 
fearing  the  effect  upon  Graeme,  I  spoke  to  Nel- 
son, who  passed  the  word,  and  in  a  short  time 
the  camp  was  quiet.  As  we  sauntered  from  the 
grub  camp  to  the  office  Avhere  was  our  bed,  we 
paused  to  take  in  the  beauty  of  the  night.  The 
moon  rode  high  over  the  peaks  of  the  mountains, 


120  Black  Rock. 

flooding  the  narrow  valley  with  mellow  light. 
Under  her  magic  the  rugged  peaks  softened  their 
harsh  lines  and  seemed  to  lean  lovingly  toward 
us.  The  dark  pine  masses  stood  silent  as  in 
breathless  adoration ;  the  dazzling  snow  lay  like 
a  garment  over  all  the  open  spaces  in  soft  waving 
folds,  and  crowned  every  stump  with  a  quaintly 
shaped  nightcap.  Above  the  camps  the  smoke 
curled  up  from  the  camp-fires,  standing  like  pil- 
lars of  cloud  that  kept  watch  while  men  slept. 
And  high  over  all  the  deep  blue  night  sky,  with 
its  star  jewels,  sprang  like  the  roof  of  a  great 
cathedral  from  range  to  range,  covering  us  in  its 
kindly  shelter.  How  homelike  and  safe  seemed 
the  valley  with  its  mountain  sides,  its  sentinel 
tree,  and  arching  roof  of  jeweled  sky  !  Even  the 
night  seemed  kindly,  and  friendly  the  stars  ;  and 
the  lone  cry  of  the  wolf  from  the  deep  forest 
seemed  like  the  voice  of  a  comrade. 

"  How  beautiful !  too  beautiful ! "  said  Graeme, 
stretching  out  his  arms.  "  A  night  like  this  takes 
the  heart  out  of  me." 

I  stood  silent,  drinking  in  at  every  sense  the 
night  with  its  wealth  of  loveliness. 

"  "What  is  it  I  want  ? "  he  went  on.  "  "Why 
does  the  night  make  my  heart  ache  ?  There  are 
things  to  see  and  things  to  hear  just  beyond  me 
1  cannot  get  to  them." 


Black  Rock.  12 1 

The  gay,  careless  look  was  gone  from  his  face, 
his  dark  eyes  were  wistful  with  yearning. 

"  I  often  wonder  if  life  has  nothing  better  for 
me,"  he  continued  with  his  heart-ache  voice. 

I  said  no  word,  but  put  my  arm  within  his.  A 
light  appeared  in  the  stable.  Glad  of  a  diversion, 
I  said  : 

"  What  is  the  light  ?     Let  us  go  and  see." 

"Sandy  taking  a  last  look  at  his  team,  like 
enough." 

"We  walked  slowly  toward  the  stable,  speaking 
no  word.  As  we  neared  the  door  we  heard  the 
sound  of  a  voice  in  the  monotone  of  one  reading. 
I  stepped  forward  and  looked  through  a  chink 
between  the  logs.  Graeme  was  about  to  open  the 
door,  but  1  held  up  my  hand  and  beckoned  him 
to  me.  In  a  vacant  stall,  where  was  a  pile  of 
straw,  a  number  of  men  were  grouped.  Sandy, 
leaning  against  the  tying-post  upon  which  the 
stable-lantern  hung,  was  reading  ;  Nelson  was 
kneeling  in  front  of  him  and  gazing  into  the  gloom 
beyond  ;  Baptiste  lay  upon  his  stomach,  his  chin 
in  his  hands  and  his  upturned  eyes  fastened  upon 
Sandy's  face  ;  Lachlan  Campbell  sat  with  his  hands 
clasped  about  his  knees,  and  two  other  men  sat 
near  him.  Sandy  was  reading  the  undying  story 
of  the  prodigal,  Nelson  now  and  then  stoiiping 
him  to  xp-'dke  a  remark.     It  was  a  scene  1  have 


122  Black  Rock. 

never  been  able  to  forget.  To-day  I  pause  in  my 
tale,  and  see  it  as  clearly  as  when  I  looked  through 
the  chink  upon  it  years  ago.  The  long,  low  stable 
with  log  walls  and  upright  hitching-poles ;  the 
dim  outlines  of  the  horses  in  the  gloom  of  the 
background,  and  the  little  group  of  rough,  almost 
savage-looking  men,  with  faces  wondering  and  rev- 
erent, lighted  by  the  misty  light  of  the  stable- 
lantern. 

After  the  reading  Sandy  handed  the  book  to 
Nelson,  who  put  it  in  his  pocket,  saying  : 

"  That's  for  us,  boys,  ain't  it  ?  " 

"  Aye,"  said  Lachlan.  "  It  is  often  that  has  been 
read  in  my  hearing,  but  I  am  afraid  it  will  not  be 
for  me  whatever,"  and  he  swayed  himself  slightly 
as  he  spoke,  and  his  voice  was  full  of  pain. 

"  The  minister  said  I  might  come,"  said  old  Nel- 
son earnestly  and  hopefully. 

"Aye,  but  you  are  not  Lachlan  Campbell,  and 
you  have  not  had  his  privileges.  My  father  was 
a  godly  elder  in  the  Free  Church  of  Scotland,  and 
never  a  night  or  morning  but  we  took  the 
Books." 

"  Yes,  but  He  said  '  any  man,' "  persisted  Nelson, 
putting  his  hand  on  Lachlan's  knee.  But  Lachlan 
shook  his  head. 

"  Dat  young  feller,"  said  Baptists ;  "  wha's  hees 
nem,  heh  ? " 


Black  Rock.  123 

"  He  has  no  name.  It  is  just  a  payable,"  ex- 
plained Sandy. 

"  He's  got  no  nem  ?  He's  just  a  paromble  ? 
Das  no  young  feller  ? "  asked  Baptiste  anxiously  ; 
"  das  mean  notting  ? " 

Then  Nelson  took  him  in  hand  and  explained 
to  him  the  meaning,  while  Baptiste  listened  even 
more  eagerly,  ejaculating  softly :  "Ah,  voild  !hon  ! 
by  gar !  "  When  Nelson  had  finished  he  broke 
out :  "  Dat  young  feller,  his  name  Baptiste,  heh  ? 
an'  de  old  Fadder,  he's  le  hon  Dieu  !  Bon  !  das 
good  story  for  me.  How  you  go  back  ?  You  go 
to  de  pries'  ? " 

"  The  book  doesn't  say  priest  or  any  one  else," 
said  Nelson.  "  You  go  back  in  yourself,  you  see? " 

'■''Non  ;  das  so,  sure  nuff.  Ah  ! " — as  if  a  light 
broke  in  upon  him — "  you  go  in  your  own  self. 
You  make  one  leetle  prayer.  You  say,  '  Le  Ion 
Fadder,  oh !  I  want  come  back,  1  so  tire,  so  hon- 
gree,  so  sorree  ? '  He  say,  *  Come  right  'long,' 
Ah !  das  fuss  rate.  Nelson,  you  make  one  leetle 
prayer  for  Sandy  an'  me." 

And  Nelson  lifted  up  his  face  and  said  : 

"  Father,  we're  all  gone  far  away  ;  we  have 
spent  all,  we  are  poor,  we  are  tired  of  it  all  ;  we 
want  to  feel  different,  to  be  different ;  we  want 
to  come  back.  Jesus  came  to  save  us  from  our 
sins,  and  He  said  if  we  came  He  wouldn't  cast  us 


124  Black  Rock. 

out,  no  matter  how  bad  we  were,  if  we  only  came 
to  Him.  Oh,  Jesus  Christ " — and  his  old,  iron  face 
began  to  work  and  two  big  tears  slowly  came 
from  under  his  eyelids  — "  we  ai'e  a  poor  lot,  and 
I'm  the  worst  of  the  lot,  and  we  are  trying  to 
find  the  way.     Show  us  how  to  get  back.    Amen." 

^^Bon  !  "  said  Baptiste.  "  Das  fetch  Him,  sure ! " 

Graeme  pulled  me  awa}^,  and  without  a  word 
we  went  into  the  office  and  drew  up  to  the  little 
stove.     Graeme  was  greatly  moved. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  anything  like  that  ? "  he  asked. 
"  Old  Nelson !  the  hardest,  savagest,  toughest  old 
sinner  in  the  camp,  on  his  knees  before  a  lot  of 
men  ! " 

"  Before  God,"  I  could  not  help  saying,  for  the 
thing  seemed  very  real  to  me.  The  old  man 
evidently  felt  himself  talking  to  some  one. 

"Yes,  I  suppose  you're  right,"  said  Graeme 
doubtfully  ;  "  but  there's  a  lot  of  stuff  I  can't 
swallow." 

"  When  you  take  medicine  you  don't  swallow 
the  bottle,"  I  replied,  for  his  trouble  was  not  mine. 

''If  I  were  sure  of  the  medicine  I  wouldn't 
mind  the  bottle,  and  yet  it  acts  well  enough,"  he 
went  on.  "  I  don't  mind  Lachlan.  He's  a  High- 
land mystic  and  has  visions,  and  Sandy's  almost 
as  bad,  and  Baptiste  is  an  impulsive  little  chap. 
Those  don't  count  much.    But  old  maj  Nelson  is 


Black  Rock.  125 

a  cool-blooded,  level-headed  old  fellow  ;  has  seen 
a  lot  of  lii'e,  too.  And  then  there's  Craig.  He 
has  a  better  head  than  1  have  and  is  as  hot- 
blooded,  and  yet  he  is  living  and  slaving  away  in 
that  hole,  and  really  enjoys  it.  There  must  be 
something  in  it." 

"  Oh,  look  here,  Graeme,"  I  burst  out  impa- 
tiently, "  what's  the  use  of  your  talking  like  that  ? 
Of  course  there's  something  in  it.  There's  every- 
thing in  it.  The  trouble  with  me  is  I  can't  face 
the  music.  It  calls  for  a  life  where  a  fellow  must 
go  in  for  straight,  steady  work,  self-denial,  and 
that  sort  of  thing ;  and  I'm  too  Bohemian  for  that 
and  too  lazy.  But  that  fellow  Craig  makes  one 
feel  horribly  uncomfortable." 

Graeme  put  his  head  on  one  side  and  examined 
me  curiously. 

"  I  believe  you're  right  about  yourself.  You 
always  were  a  luxurious  beggar.  But  that's  not 
where  it  catches  me." 

We  sat  and  smoked  and  talked  of  other  things 
for  an  hour  and  then  turned  in.  As  I  was  drop- 
ping off  I  was  roused  by  Graeme's  voice  : 

"  Are  you  going  to  the  preparatory  service  on 
Friday  night  ? " 

"  Don't  know,"  I  replied  rather  sleepily. 

"  I  say,  do  you  remember  the  preparatory  serv- 
ice at  home  2  '* 


126  Black  Rock. 

There  was  something  in  his  voice  that  set  me 
wide  awake. 

"Yes.  Rather  terrific,  wasn't  it?  But  I 
always  felt  better  after  it,"  I  replied. 

"  To  me  " — he  was  sitting  up  in  bed  now — "  to 
me  it  was  like  a  call  to  arms,  or  rather  lil^e  a 
call  for  a  forlorn  hope.  ISTone  but  volunteers 
Avanted.  Do  3'Ou  remember  the  thrill  in  the  old 
governor's  voice  as  he  dared  any  but  the  right 
stuff  to  come  on  ? " 

"  We'll  go  in  on  Friday  night,"  I  said. 

And  so  we  did.  Sandy  took  a  load  of  men 
with  his  team  and  Graeme  and  I  drove  in  the 
light  sleigh. 

The  meeting  was  in  the  church  and  over  a 
hundred  men  were  present.  There  was  some 
singing  of  familiar  hymns  at  first,  and  then  Mr. 
Craig  read  the  same  story  as  we  had  heard  in  the 
stable,  that  most  perfect  of  all  parables,  the  Prod- 
igal Son.  Baptiste  nudged  Sandy  in  delight  and 
whispered  something,  but  Sandy  held  his  face  so 
absolutely  expressionless  that  Graeme  was  moved 
to  say  : 

"  Look  at  Sandy !  Did  you  ever  see  such  a 
graven  image  ?     Something  has  hit  him  hard." 

The  men  were  held  fast  by  the  story.  The 
voice  of  the  reader,  low,  earnest,  and  thrilling 
with  the  tender  pathos  of  the  tale,  carried  the 


Black  Rock.  127 

words  to  our  hearts,  while  a  glance,  a  gesture,  a 
movement  of  the  body  gave  us  the  vision  of  it  all 
as  he  was  seeing  it. 

Then,  in  simplest  of  words,  he  told  us  what  the 
story  meant,  holding  us  the  while  with  eyes,  and 
voice,  and  gesture.  He  compelled  us  to  scorn 
the  gay,  heartless  selfishness  of  the  young  fool 
setting  forth  so  jauntily  from  the  broken  home  ; 
he  moved  our  pity  and  our  sympathy  for  the 
young  profligate,  who,  broken  and  deserted,  had 
still  pluck  enough  to  determine  to  work  his  way 
back,  and  who,  in  utter  desperation,  at  last  gave 
it  up ;  and  then  he  showed  us  the  home-coming — ■ 
the  ragged,  heart-sick  tramp,  with  hesitating 
steps,  stumbling  along  the  dusty  road,  and  then 
the  rush  of  the  old  father,  his  garments  flutter- 
ing and  his  voice  heard  in  broken  cries.  I  see 
and  hear  it  all  now  whenever  the  words  are 
read. 

He  announced  the  hymn,  "  Just  as  I  am,"  read 
the  first  verse,  and  then  went  on  : 

"  There  you  are,  men,  every  man  of  you,  some- 
where on  the  road.  Some  of  you  are  too  lazy  " — 
here  Graeme  nudged  me — "  and  some  of  you 
haven't  enough  yet  of  the  far  country  to  come  back. 
May  there  be  a  chance  for  you  when  you  want  to 
come !  Men,  you  all  want  to  go  back  home,  and 
vrhen  you  go  you'll  want  to  put  on  your   soft 


128  Black  Rock. 

clothes,  and  you  won't  go  till  you  can  go  in  good 
style  ;  but  where  did  the  prodigal  get  his  gooa 
clothes  ?  " 

Quick  came  the  answer  in  Baptiste's  shrill 
voice  : 

"  From  de  ole  f  adder  ! " 

No  one  was  surprised,  and  the  minister  went 
on  : 

"  Yes  !  and  that's  where  we  must  get  the  good, 
clean  heart,  the  good,  clean,  brave  heart — from 
our  Father.  Don't  wait,  but  just  as  you  are, 
come.     Sing." 

They  sang,  not  loud,  as  they  would  "  Stand 
Up,"  or  even  "  The  Sweet  By  and  By,"  but  in 
voices  subdued,  holding  down  the  power  in 
them. 

After  the  singing  Craig  stood  a  moment  gaz- 
ing down  at  the  men  and  then  said  quietly  : 

"  Any  man  want  to  come  ?  You  all  might 
come.     We  all  must  come." 

Then,  sweeping  his  arm  over  the  audience  and 
turning  half  round  as  if  to  move  off,  he  cried,  in 
a  voice  that  thrilled  to  the  heart's  core  : 

"  Oh  !  come  on  !     Let's  go  back  !  " 

The  effect  was  overpowering.  It  seemed  to 
me  that  the  whole  company  half  rose  to  their 
feet.  Of  the  prayer  that  immediately  followed 
I  onlj  caught  the  opening  sentence,  "  Father,  we 


Black  Rock.  12^, 

are  coming  back,"  for  my  attention  was  suddenly 
absorbed  by  Abe,  tlie  stage  driver,  who  was  sit 
ting  next  me.  I  could  hear  him  swearing  ap 
proval  and  admiration,  saying  to  himself  : 

"Ain't  he  a  clinker!  I'll  be  gee-whizzly-gol 
dusted  if  he  ain't  a  malleable-iron-dcuble-bacL 
action  self-adjusting  corn-cracker." 

And  the  prayer  continued  to  be  punctuated 
with  like  admiring  and  even  more  sulphurous 
<)xpletives.  It  was  an  incongruous  medley.  Th( 
earliest,  reverent  prayer  and  the  earnest,  admir 
ing  profanity  rendered  chaotic  one's  ideas  of 
religious  propriety.  The  feelings  in  both  were 
akin  ;  the  method  of  expression  somewhat  widely 
diverse. 

A.fter  prayer  Craig's  tone  changed  utterly.  In 
a  quiet,  matter-of-fact,  business-like  way  he  stated 
his  plan  of  organization,  and  called  for  all  who 
wished  to  join  to  remain  after  the  benediction. 
Some  fifty  men  were  left,  among  them  Nelson, 
Sandy,  Lachlan  Campbell,  Eaptiste,  Shaw,  Nixon. 
Geordie,  and  Billy  Breen,  who  tried  to  get  out, 
but  was  held  fast  by  Geordie. 

Graeme  was  passing  out,  bat  1  signed  him  to 
remain,  saying  that  I  wished  "  to  see  the  thing 
out."  Abe  sat  still  beside  me,  swearing  dis- 
gustedly  at  the  fellows  "  who  were  going  back 
on  the  preacher."  Craig  appeared  amazed  at  ti^<« 
9 


130  Black  Rock. 

number  of  men  remaining,  and  seemed  to  fear 
Ihat  something  was  wrong.  He  put  before  them 
the  terms  of  discipleship,  as  the  Master  put  them 
to  the  eager  scribe,  and  he  did  not  make  them  easy. 
He  pictured  the  kind  of  work  to  be  done  and  the 
kind  of  men  needed  for  the  doing  of  it.  Abe 
grew  uneasy  as  the  minister  went  on  to  describe 
the  completeness  of  the  surrender,  the  intensity 
of  the  loyalty  demanded. 

"  That  knocks  me  out,  I  reckon,"  he  mut- 
tured  in  a  disappointed  tone.  "  I  ain't  up  to  that 
grade."  And  as  Craig  described  the  heroism 
called  for,  the  magnificence  of  the  fight,  the 
worth  of  it,  and  the  outcome  of  it  all,  Abe  ground 
out :  "  I'll  be  blanked  if  I  wouldn't  like  to  take  a 
hand,  but  I  guess  I'm  not  in  it."  Craig  finished 
by  saying: 

"  I  want  to  put  this  quite  fairly.  It  is  not  any 
league  of  mine  ;  you're  not  joining  my  company ; 
it  is  no  easy  business,  and  it  is  for  your  whole  life. 
What  do  you  say  ?  Do  I  put  it  fairly  ?  "What 
do  you  say,  Nelson  ? " 

Nelson  rose  slowl}^  and  with  difiiculty  began  : 

"  I  may  be  all  wrong,  but  you  made  it  easier 
for  me,  Mr.  Craig.  You  said  He  would  see  me 
through,  or  I  should  never  have  risked  it.  Per. 
haps  I  am  wrong,"  and  the  old  man  looked 
troubled. 


Black  Rock.  131 

Craig  sprang  up. 

"No!  no!  Thank  God,  no!  He  will  see 
every  man  through  who  will  trust  his  life  to  Him. 
Every  man,  no  matter  how  tough  he  is,  no  mat- 
ter how  broken." 

Then  Nelson  straightened  himself  up  and  said  : 

"  Well,  sir !  I  believe  a  lot  of  the  men  would 
go  in  for  this  if  they  were  dead  sure  they  would 
get  through." 

"  Get  through  !  "  said  Craig ;  "  never  a  fear  of  it. 
It  is  a  hard  fight,  a  long  fight,  a  glorious  fight," 
tlirowing  up  his  head,  "  but  every  man  who 
squarely  trusts  Him  and  takes  Him  as  Lord  and 
j\J  aster  comes  out  victor  !  " 

"j^wi.'"  said  Baptiste.  "Das  me.  You  tink 
He's  take  me  in  dat  fight,  M'sieu  Craig,  heh  ? " 

His  eves  were  blazing. 

"  You  mean  it  ? "  asked  Craig  almost  sternly. 

"  Yes !  by  gar ! "  said  the  little  Frenchman 
eagerly. 

"Hear  what  He  says,  then;"  and  Craig,  turn- 
ing over  the  leaves  of  his  Testament,  read 
solemnly  the  words,  "  Swear  not  at  all." 

"  Non  !  For  sure !  Den  I  stop  him,"  replied 
Baptiste  earnestly,  and  Craig  wrote  his  name 
down. 

Poor  Abe  looked  amazed  and  distressed,  rose 
slowly,  and  saying,  "  That  jars  my  whisky  jug," 


132  Black  Rock. 

passed  out.  There  was  a  slight  movement  near 
the  organ,  and  glancing  up  I  saw  Mrs.  Mavor 
put  her  face  hastily  in  her  hands.  The  men's 
faces  were  anxious  and  troubled,  and  Kelson  said 
in  a  voice  that  broke  :  "  Tell  them  what  j'^ou  told 
me,  sir."  But  Craig  was  troubled,  too,  and  re- 
plied, "  You  tell  them,  Nelson  ! "  and  Nelson 
told  the  men  the  story  of  how  he  began  just  five 
weeks  ago.  The  old  man's  voice  steadied  as  he 
went  on,  and  he  grew  eager  as  he  told  how  he 
had  been  helped,  and  how  the  world  was  all  dif- 
ferent and  his  heart  seemed  new.  He  spoke  of 
his  Friend  as  if  He  were  some  one  that  could  be 
seen  out  at  camp,  that  he  knew  well  and  met 
every  day. 

But  as  he  tried  to  say  how  deeply  he  regretted 
that  he  had  not  known  all  this  years  before,  the 
old,  hard  face  began  to  quiver  and  the  steady 
voice  wavered.  Then  he  pulled  himself  together 
and  said  : 

"  1  begin  to  feel  sure  He'll  pull  me  through — 
rae  I  the  hardest  man  in  the  mountains !  So 
don't  you  fear,  boys.     He's  all  right." 

Then  the  men  gave  in  their  names  one  by  one. 
"When  it  came  to  Geordie's  turn  he  gave  his 
name : 

"  George  Crawford,  f rae  the  pairish  o'  Kilsyth, 
Scotland,  an*  ye'll  juist  pit  doon  the  lad's  name. 


Black  Rock.  133 

Maister  Craig.  He's  a  Avee  bit  fashed  wi*  the 
discoorse,  but  he  has  the  root  o'  the  mcitter  in 
him,  I  doot." 

And  so  Billy  Breen's  name  went  down. 

"When  the  meeting  was  over  thirty-eight  names 
stood  upon  the  communion  roll  of  the  Black 
Rock  Presbyterian  Church  ;  and  it  will  ever  be 
one  ot  the  regrets  of  my  life  that  neither  Graeme's 
name  nor  my  own  appeared  on  that  roll.  And 
two  days  after,  when  the  cup  went  round  on  that 
first  communion  Sabbath,  from  Nelson  to  Sandy 
and  from  Sandy  to  Baptiste,  and  so  on  down  the 
line  to  Billy  Breen  and  Mrs.  Mavor,  and  then  to 
Abe,  the  driver,  whom  she  had  by  her  own  mystic 
power  lifted  into  hope  and  faith,  I  felt  all  the 
shame  and  pain  of  a  traitor  ;  and  I  believe  in  my 
heart  that  the  fire  of  that  pain  and  shame  burned 
something  of  the  selfish  cowardice  out  of  me,  and 
that  it  is  burninc?  still. 

The  last  words  of  the  minister  in  the  short  ad- 
dress after  the  table  had  been  served  were  low, 
and  sweet,  and  tender,  but  they  were  words  of 
high  courage ;  and  before  he  had  spoken  them 
all  the  men  were  listening  with  shining  eyes,  and 
when  they  rose  to  sing  the  closing  hymn  they 
stood  straight  and  stiff  like  soldiers  on  parade. 

And  I  wished  more  than  ever  I  were  one  ot 
them. 


134  Black  Rock. 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

THE  BREAKING  OF  THE  LEAGUE. 

There  is  no  doubt  in  my  mind  that  nature  de- 
signed  me  for  a  great  painter.  A  railroad  director 
interfered  with  that  design  of  nature,  as  he  has 
with  many  another  of  hers,  and  by  the  transmis- 
sion of  an  order  for  mountain  pieces  by  the  dozen, 
together^  with  a  check  so  large  that  I  feared  there 
was  some  mistake,  he  determined  me  tc  be  an  il- 
lustrator and  designer  for  railroad  and  like  publi- 
cations. I  do  not  like  these  people  ordering  "  by 
the  dozen."  Why  should  they  not  consider  an 
artist's  finer  feelings  ?  Perhaps  they  cannot  un- 
derstand them  ;  but  they  understand  my  pictures 
and  I  understand  their  checks,  and  there  we  are 
quits.  But  so  it  came  that  I  remained  in  Black 
Rock  long  enough  to  witness  the  breaking  of  the 
league. 

Looking  back  upon  the  events  of  that  night  from 
the  midst  of  gentle  and  decent  surroundings,  they 
now  seem  strangely  unreal,  but  to  me  then  they 
appeared  only  natural. 

It  was  the  Good  Friday  ball  that  wrecked  the 


Black  Kock.  135 

-league.  For  the  fact  that  the  promoters  of  the 
ball  determined  that  it  should  be  a  ball  rather  than 
a  dance  was  taken  by  the  league  men  as  a  conces- 
sion to  the  new  public  opinion  in  favor  of  respect- 
ability created  by  the  league.  And  when  the 
managers'  patronage  had  been  secured  (they  failed 
to  get  Mrs.  Mavor's),  and  it  was  further  an- 
nounced that  though  held  in  the  Black  Rock  Hotel 
ball-room — indeed,  there  "was  no  other  place — re- 
freshments suited  to  the  peculiar  tastes  of  league 
men  would  be  provided,  it  was  felt  to  be  almost  a 
necessity  that  the  league  should  approve,  should 
indeed  welcome,  this  concession  to  the  public  opin- 
ion in  favor  of  respectabilit}^  created  by  the  league. 

There  were  extreme  men  on  both  sides,  of  course. 
Idaho  Jack,  professional  gambler,  for  instance, 
frankly  considered  that  the  whole  town  was  go- 
ing to  unmentionable  depths  of  propriety.  The 
organization  of  the  league  was  regarded  by  him 
and  by  many  others  as  a  sad  retrograde  toward 
the  bondage  of  the  ancient  and  dying  East ;  and 
that  he  could  not  get  drunk  when  and  where  he 
pleased,  "  Idaho,"  as  he  was  called,  regarded  as 
a  personal  grievance. 

But  Idaho  was  never  enamored  of  the  social 
ways  of  Black  Rock.     He  was  shocked  ^nd  di  ■ 
gusted  when  he  discovered  that  a  "  gun  "  \v  ■ 
creed  by  British  law  to  be  an  unnecessary  ;; 


136  Black  Rock. 

ment  o\  a  card-table.  The  manner  of  his  dis. 
covery  must  have  been  interesting  to  behold. 

It  is  said  that  Idaho  was  industriously  pursu- 
inof  his  avocation  in  Slavin's,  with  his  "  £run  "  Ivino: 
upon  the  card-table  convenient  to  his  hand,  when 
in  walked  Policeman  Jackson,  her  majesty's  sole 
representative  in  the  Black  Rock  district.  Jack- 
son, "  Stonewall  Jackson,"  or  "  Stonewall,"  as  he 
was  called  for  obvious  reasons,  after  watching  the 
game  for  a  few  moments  gently  tapped  the  pistol 
and  asked  what  he  used  this  for. 

"  I'll  show  you  in  two  holy  minutes  if  you  don't 
light  out,"  said  Idaho,  hardly  looking  up,  but  very 
angrily,  for  the  luck  was  against  him.  But  Jack- 
son tapped  upon  the  table  and  said  sweetly : 

"  You're  a  stranger  here.  You  ought  to  get 
a  guidebook  and  post  yourself.  Now,  the  boys 
know  I  don't  interfere  with  an  innocent  little  game, 
but  there  is  a  regulation  against  playing  it  with 
guns ;  so,"  he  added  even  more  sweetly,  but 
fastening  Idaho  with  a  look  from  his  steel-gray 
eyes,  "  I'll  just  take  charge  of  this,"  picking  up 
the  revolver ;  "  it  might  go  off." 

Idaho's  rage,  great  as  it  was,was  quite  swallowed 
up  in  his  amazed  disgust  at  the  state  of  society 
that  would  permit  such  an  outrage  upon  personal 
libert\\  He  was  quite  unable  to  play  any  more 
that  evening,  and  it  took  several  drinks  all  round 


Black  Rock.  137 

to  restore  hira  to  articulate  speech.  The  rest  of 
the  night  was  spent  in  retailing  for  his  instruction 
stories  of  the  ways  of  Stonewall  Jackson. 

Idaho  bought  a  new  "  gun,"  but  he  wore  it  "  in 
his  clothes"  and  used  it  chiefly  in  the  pastime  of 
shooting  out  the  lights  or  in  picking  off  the  heels 
from  the  boys'  boots  while  a  stag  dance  was  in 
progress  in  Slavin's.  But  in  Stonewall's  presence 
Idaho  was  a  most  correct  citizen.  Stonewall  he 
could  understand  and  appreciate.  He  was  six  feet 
three  and  had  an  eye  of  unpleasant  penetration. 
But  this  new  feeling  in  the  community  for 
respectability  he  could  neither  understand  nor 
endure. 

The  league  became  the  object  of  his  indignant 
aversion  and  the  league  men  of  his  contempt. 
He  had  many  sympathizers,  and  frequent  were 
the  assaults  upon  the  newly-born  sobriety  of  Billy 
Breen  and  others  of  the  league.  But  Geordie's 
Avatchful  care  and  Mrs.  Mavor's  stead}'^  influence, 
together  with  the  loyal  co-operation  of  the  league 
men,  kept  Billy  safe  so  far,  Kixon,  too,  was  a 
marked  man.  It  may  be  that  he  carried  himself 
with  unnecessary  jauntiness  toward  Slavin  and 
Idaho,  saluting  the  former  with  "  Awful  dry 
weather !  eh,  Slavin  ?  "  and  the  latter  with  "  Hello, 
old  sport!  how's  times  ?  "  causing  them  to  swear 
deeply  .and,  as  it  turned  out,  to  do  more  than  swear 


isS  Black  Rock. 

But  on  the  whole  the  anti-league  men  were  in. 
favor  of  a  respectable  ball,  and  most  of  the  league 
men  determined  to  show  their  appreciation  of  the 
concession  of  the  committee  to  the  principles  of 
the  league  in  the  important  matter  of  refreshments 
by  attending  in  force. 

Xixou  would  not  go.  However  jauntily  he 
might  talk,  he  could  not  trust  himself,  as  he  said, 
w^here  whisk}?-  was  flowing,  for  it  got  into  his  nose 
*'  like  a  fish-hook  into  a  salmon."  He  was  from 
Kova  Scotia.  For  like  reason  Yernon  "Winton, 
the  young  Oxford  fellow,  would  not  go.  When 
they  chaffed  his  lips  grew  a  little  thinner  and  the 
color  deepened  in  his  handsome  face,  but  he  went 
on  his  way.  Geordie  despised  the  "  hale  hy- 
pothick  "  as  a  "  daft  ploy,"  and  the  spending  of 
five  dollars  upon  a  ticket  he  considered  a  "  sinfu' 
waste  o'  guid  siller  ; "  and  he  warned  Billy  against 
"  coontenancin'  ony  sic  redeeklus  nonsense." 

But  no  one  expected  Billy  to  go,  although  the 
last  two  months  he  had  done  wonders  for  his 
personal  appearance  and  for  his  position  in  the 
social  scale  as  well.  They  all  knew  what  a  fight 
he  was  making  and  esteemed  him  accordinglv. 
How  well  I  remember  the  pleased  pride  in  his 
face  when  he  told  me  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
committee's  urgent  request  that  he  should  joir 
the  orchestra  with  his  'cello  I    It  was  not  simi;. 


Black  Rock.  139 

that  his  'cello  was  liis  joy  and  pride,  but  be  felt 
it  to  be  a  recognition  of  his  return  to  respecta- 
bility. 

I  have  often  wondered  how  things  combine  at 
times  to  a  man's  destruction. 

Had  Mr.  Craig  not  been  away  at  the  Landing 
that  week,  had  Geordie  not  been  on  the  night 
shift,  had  Mrs.  Mayor  not  been  so  occupied  with 
the  care  of  her  sick  child,  it  may  be  Billy  might 
have  been  saved  his  fall. 

The  anticipation  of  the  ball  stirred  Black  Rock 
and  the  camps  with  a  thrill  of  expectant  delight. 
^Nowadays,  when  I  find  myself  forced  to  leave 
my  quiet  smoke  in  my  studio  after  dinner  at  the 
call  of  some  social  engagement  which  I  have 
failed  to  elude,  I  groan  at  my  hard  lot,  and  I 
wonder  as  1  look  back  and  remember  the  pleas- 
urable anticipation  with  which  I  viewed  the  ap- 
proaching balk  But  I  do  not  wonder  now,  any 
more  than  I  did  then,  at  the  eager  delight  of  the 
men  who  for  seven  days  in  the  week  swung  iheir 
picks  up  in  the  dark  breasts  of  the  mines,  or  who 
chopped  and  sawed  among  the  solitary  silences  of 
the  great  forests.  Any  break  in  the  long  and 
weary  monotony  was  welcome.  What  mattered 
the  cost  or  consequence?  To  the  rudest  and 
least  cultured  of  them  the  sameness  of  the  life 
must  have  been  hard  to  bear ;  but  what  it  was  to 


140  Black  Rock. 

men  who  had  seen  life  in  its  most  cultured  ana 
attractive  forms  I  fail  to  imagine.  From  the  mine, 
black  and  foul,  to  the  shack,  bare,  cheerless,  and 
sometimes  hideously  repulsive,  life  swung  in  heart- 
grinding  monotony  till  the  longing  for  a  "  big 
drink  "  or  some  other  "  big  break  "  became  too 
great  to  bear. 

It  was  well  on  toward  evening  when  Sandy's 
four-horse  teaiu,  with  a  load  of  men  from  the 
woods,  came  swinging  round  the  curves  of  the 
mountain  road  and  down  the  street.  A  gay 
crowd  they  were  with  their  bright,  brown  faces 
and  hearty  voices ;  and  in  ten  minutes  the  whole 
street  seemed  alive  with  lumbermen — they  had  a 
faculty  of  spreading  themselves  so.  After  night 
fell  the  miners  came  down  "  done  up  slick,"  for 
this  was  a  great  occasion  and  they  must  be  up  to 
it.  The  manager  appeared  in  evening  dress ;  but 
this  was  voted  "  too  giddy  "  by  the  majority. 

As  Graeme  and  I  passed  up  to  the  Black  Rock 
Hotel,  in  the  large  storeroom  of  which  the  ball 
^^■as  to  be  held,  we  met  old  man  Nelson  looking 
very  grave. 

"  Going,  Nelson,  aren't  you  ?  "  I  said. 

"Yes,"  he  answered  slowly.  "I'll  drop  in, 
though  I  don't  like  the  look  of  things  much." 

"  What's  the  matter,  Nelson  ? "  asked  Graeme 
cheerily.    '*  There  s  no  funeral  on." 


Black  Rock.  141 

"Perhaps  not,"  replied  Nelson,  "but  I  wish 
Mr.  Craig  were  home."  And  then  he  added  : 
"  There's  Idaho  and  Slavin  together,  and  you  may 
bet  the  devil  isn't  far  off." 

But  Graeme  laughed  at  his  suspicion  and  we 
passed  on.  The  orchestra  was  tuning  up.  There 
were  two  violins,  a  concertina,  and  tho  'cello. 
Billy  Breen  was  lovingly  fingering  his  instru- 
ment, now  and  then  indulging  himself  in  a  little 
snatch  of  some  air  that  came  to  him  out  of  his 
happier  past.  He  looked  perfectly  delighted, 
and  as  I  paused  to  listen  he  gave  me  a  proud 
glance  out  of  his  deep,  little,  blue  eyes,  and  went 
on  playing  softly  to  himself.  Presently  Shaw 
came  along. 

"  That's  good,  Billy,"  he  called  out.  "  You've 
got  the  trick  yet,  I  see." 

But  Billy  only  nodded  and  went  on  playing. 

"  Where's  Nixon  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Gone  to  bed,"  said  Shaw,  "  and  I  am  glad  of 
it.  He  finds  that  the  safest  place  on  pay-day 
afternoon.     The  boys  don't  bother  him  there." 

The  dancing-room  was  lined  on  two  sides  with 
beer-barrels  and  whisky -kegs.  At  one  end  the 
orchestra  sat  ;  at  the  other  a  table  with  refresh- 
ments, where  the  "  soft  drinks "  might  be  had. 
Those  who  wanted  anything  else  might  pass' 
through  a  short  passage  into  the  bar  just  behind. 


142  Black  Rock. 

This  was  evidently  a  superior  kind  of  ball,  for 
the  men  kept  on  their  coats  and  went  through 
the  various  figures  with  faces  of  unnatural  solem- 
nity. But  the  strain  upon  their  feelings  was 
quite  apparent,  and  it  became  a  question  how  long 
it  could  be  maintained.  As  the  trips  through  the 
passageway  became  more  frequent  the  dancing 
grew  in  vigor  and  hilarity,  until  by  the  time 
supper  was  announced  the  stiffness  had  sufficiently 
vanished  to  give  no  further  anxiety  to  the  com- 
mittee. 

But  the  committee  had  other  cause  for  concern, 
inasmuch  as  after  supper  certain  of  the  miners 
appeared  with  their  coats  off  and  proceeded  to 
"  knock  the  knots  out  of  the  floor  "  in  break-down 
dances  of  extraordinary  energy.  These,  however, 
were  beguiled  into  the  bar-room  and  "filled  up" 
for  safety,  for  the  committee  were  determined 
that  the  respectability  of  the  ball  should  be  pre- 
served to  the  end.  Their  reputation  was  at  stake, 
not  in  Black  Bock  only,  but  at  the  Landing  as 
well,  from  which  most  of  the  ladies  had  come; 
and  to  be  ashamed  in  the  presence  of  the  Landing 
people  could  not  be  borne.  Their  diiBculties 
seemed  to  be  increasing,  for  at  this  point  some- 
thing seemed  to  go  wrong  with  the  orchestra. 
The  'cello  appeared  to  be  wandering  aimlessly  up 
and  down  the  scale,  occasionally  picking  up  the 


Black  Rock.  143 

tune  with  animation  and  then  dropping  it.  As 
Billy  saw  nie  approaching  he  drew  himself  np 
with  great  solemnity,  gravely  winked  at  me,  and 
said  : 

"  Shlipped  a  cog.  Mister  Connor !  Mosh  hun- 
fortunate !  Beauchiful  hinstrumentjliut  shlips  a 
cog.     Mosh  hunfortunate  !  " 

And  he  wagged  his  head  a  little  sagely,  playing 
all  the  while  for  dear  life,  now  second  and  now 
lead. 

Poor  Billy  !  I  pitied  him,  but  T  thought  chiefly 
of  the  beautiful,  eager  face  that  leaned  toward 
Jiim  the  night  the  league  was  made  and  of  the 
oright  voice  that  said,  "  You'll  sign  with  me, 
Billy  ?  "  and  it  seemed  to  me  a  cruel  deed  to  make 
him  lose  his  grip  of  life  and  hope  ;  for  this  is  what 
the  pledge  meant  to  him. 

While  I  was  trying  to  get  Billy  away  to  some 
safe  place  1  heard  a  great  shouting  in  the  di)'ec- 
tion  of  the  bar,  followed  by  tramping  and  scuf- 
fling of  feet  in  the  passageway.  Suddenly'  a  man 
burst  through,  crying : 

"  Let  me  go !  Stand  back !  I  know  what  I'm 
about ! " 

It  was  Nixon,  dressed  in  his  best :  black  clothes, 
blue  shirt,  red  tie,  looking  handsome  enough,  but 
half  drunk  and  wildly  excited.  The  Highland 
fling  competition  was  on  at    the  moment,   and 


144  Black  Rock. 

Angus  Campbell,  Lachlan's  brother,  was  repre. 
senting  the  lumber  camps  in  the  contest.  Nixon 
looked  on  approvingly  for  a  few  moments,  then 
with  a  quick  movement  he  seized  the  little  High- 
lander, swung  him  in  his  powerful  arms  clean  oft 
the  floor,  and  deposited  him  gently  upon  a  beer- 
barrel.  Then  he  stepped  into  the  center  of  the 
room,  bowed  to  the  judges,  and  began  a  sailor's 
hornpipe. 

The  committee  were  perplexed,  but  after  delib- 
eration they  decided  to  humor  the  new  compet- 
itor, especially  as  they  knew  that  Nixon  with 
whisky  in  him  was  unpleasant  to  cross. 

Lightly  and  gracefully  he  w^ent  through  his 
steps,  the  men  crowding  in  from  the  bar  to  admire, 
for  Nixon  was  famed  for  his  hornpipe.  But  when, 
after  the  hornpipe,  he  proceeded  to  execute  a  clog 
dance,  garnished  with  acrobatic  feats,  the  com- 
mittee interfered.  There  were  cries  of  "  Put  him 
out !  "  and  "  Let  him  alone  !  Go  on,  Nixon  !  " 
And  Nixon  hurled  back  into  the  crowd  two  of 
the  committee  who  had  laid  remonstrating  hands 
upon  him,  and  standing  in  the  open  center,  cried 
out  scornfully  : 

"Put  me  out!  Put  me  out!  Certainly!  Help 
yourselves  !  Don't  mind  me !  "  Then  grinding 
his  teeth,  so  that  I  heard  them  across  the  room, 
he  added  with    savage  deliberation:    "If  any 


Black  Rock.  145 

man  lays  a  finger  on  me  I'll — I'll  eat  Lis  liver 
cold." 

He  stood  for  a  few  moments  glaring  round  upon 
the  company  and  tlien  strode  toward  the  bar,  fol- 
lowed by  the  crowd  wildly  yelling.  The  ball 
was  forthwith  broken  up.  I  looked  around  for 
Billy,  but  he  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Graeme 
touched  my  arm. 

"  There's  going  to  be  something  of  a  time,  so 
just  keep  your  eyes  skinned." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Do  ?  Keep  myself  beautifully  out  of  trouble," 
he  replied. 

In  a  few  moments  the  crowds  came  surging 
back  headed  by  IS'ixon,  who  was  waving  a  whisky- 
bottle  over  his  head  and  yelling  as  one  possessed. 

"  Hello !  "  exclaimed  Graeme  softly,  "  I  begin 
to  see.     Look  there  I  " 

"What's  up?"  I  asked. 

"  You  see  Idaho  and  Slavin  and  their  pets,"  he 
replied.  "  They've  got  poor  Nixon  in  tow.  Idaho 
is  rather  nasty,"  he  added,  "  but  I  think  Til  take 
a  hand  in  this  game.  I've  seen  some  of  Idaho's 
work  before." 

The  scene  was  one  quite  strange  to  me  and  was 

wild  beyond  description.     A  hundred  men  filled 

the  room.     Bottles  were   passed   from    hand   to 

hand  and  men  drank  their  fill.    Behind  the  re- 

10 


146  Black  Rock. 

f  reshment  tables  stood  the  hotelman  and  his  bar. 
keeper  with  their  coats  off  and  sleeves  rolled  up 
to  the  shoulder,  passing  out  bottles  and  drawing 
beer  and  whisky  from  two  kegs  hoisted  up  for 
that  purpose.  J^ixon  was  in  his  glory.  It  was 
his  night.  Every  man  was  to  get  drunk  at  his 
expense,  he  proclaimed,  flinging  down  bills  upon 
the  table.  Near  him  were  some  league  men  he 
was  treating  liberally,  and  never  far  away  were 
Idaho  and  Slavin  passing  bottles,  but  evidently 
drinking  little. 

I  followed  Graeme,  not  feeling  too  comfort, 
able,  for  this  sort  of  thing  was  new  to  me,  but 
admiring  the  cool  assurance  with  which  he  made 
his  way  through  the  crowd  that  swayed  and 
yelled  and  swore  and  laughed  in  a  most  discon- 
certing manner. 

"  Hello ! "  shouted  Nixon  as  he  caught  sight  of 
Graeme.  "  Here  you  are !  "  passing  him  a  bottle. 
"  You're  a  knocker,  a  double-handed  front-door 
knocker.  You  polished  off  old  whisky-soak  here, 
old  demijohn,"  pointing  to  Slavin,  "  and  I'll  lay 
five  to  one  we  can  lick  any  blankety  blank  thieves 
in  the  crowd,"  and  he  held  up  a  roll  of  bills. 

But  Graeme  proposed  that  he  should  give  the 
hornpipe  again,  and  the  floor  was  cleared  at  once, 
for  Nixon's  hornpipe  was  very  popular,  and  to- 
niglit,  of  course,  was  in  high  favor.    In  the  midst 


Black  Rock.  147 

of  his  dance  Nixon  stopped  short,  his  arras 
dropped  to  his  side,  his  face  had  a  look  of  fear, 
of  horror. 

There,  before  him,  in  his  riding-cloak  and  boots, 
with  his  whip  in  his  hand  as  he  had  come  from 
his  ride,  stood  Mr.  Craig.  His  face  was  pallid 
and  his  dark  eyes  were  blazing  with  fierce  light. 
As  Nixon  stopped  Craig  stepped  forward  to  him, 
and  sweeping  his  eyes  round  upon  the  circle,  he 
said  in  tones  intense  with  scorn  : 

"  You  cowards !  You  get  a  man  where  he's 
weak !  Cowards  !  You'd  damn  his  soul  for  his 
money ! " 

There  was  a  dead  silence,  and  Craig,  lifting  his 
hat,  said  solemnly : 

"  May  God  forgive  you  this  night's  work  !  " 

Then,  turning  to  Nixon  and  throwing  his  arm 
over  his  shoulder,  he  said  in  a  voice  broken  and 
husky  : 

"  Come  on,  Nixon.    We'll  go." 

Idaho  made  a  motion  as  if  to  stop  him,  but 
Graeme  stepped  quickly  forward  and  said  sharply, 
"  Make  way  there,  can't  you  ? "  and  the  crowd 
fell  back  and  we  four  passed  through,  Nixon 
walking  as  in  a  dream,  with  Craig's  arm  about 
him.  Down  the  street  we  went  in  silence  and  on 
to  Craig's  shack,  where  we  found  old  man  Nel- 
son, with  the    fire   blazing   and   strong    coffee 


148  Black  Rock. 

steaming  on  the  stove.  It  was  he  that  had  told 
Craig,  on  his  arrival  from  the  Landing,  of 
JS^ixon's  fall. 

There  was  nothing  of  reproach,  but  only 
gentlest  pity,  in  tone  and  touch,  as  Craig  placed ' 
the  half-drunk,  dazed  man  in  his  easy-chair,  took 
off  his  boots,  brought  him  his  own  slippers,  and 
gave  him  coffee.  Then,  as  his  stupor  began  to 
overcome  him,  Craig  put  him  in  his  own  bed 
and  came  forth  with  a  face  written  over  with 
grief. 

"  Don't  mind,  old  chap,"  said  Graeme  kindly. 

But  Craig  looked  at  him  without  a  word,  and, 
throwing  himself  into  a  chair,  put  his  face  in  his 
hands.  As  we  sat  there  in  silence  the  door  was 
suddenly  pushed  open  and  in  walked  Abe  Baker 
with  the  words,  "  Where  is  J^ixon  ? "  and  we  told 
him  where  he  was.  We  were  still  talking  when 
again  a  tap  came  to  the  door,  and  Shaw  came  in 
looking  much  disturbed. 

"  Did  you  hear  about  Is^ixon  ? "  he  asked. 

We  told  him  what  we  knew. 

"Bat  did  you  hear  how  they  got  him?"  he 
asked  excitedly. 

As  he  told  us  the  tale  the  men  stood  listening, 
with  faces  growing  hard. 

It  appeared  that  after  the  making  of  the  league 
the  Black  Eock  Hotel  man  had  bet  Idaho  one 


Black  Rock.  149 

hundred  to  fifty  that  Nixon  could  not  be  got  to 
drink  before  Easter.  All  Idaho's  schemes  had 
failed,  and  now  he  had  only  three  days  in  which 
to  win  his  money,  and  the  ball  was  his  last  chance. 
Here  again  he  was  balked,  for  Nixon,  resisting 
all  entreaties,  barred  his  shack  door  and  went  to 
bed  before  nightfall,  according  to  his  invariable 
custom  on  pay-days.  At  midnight  some  of  Idaho's 
men  came  battering  at  the  door  for  admission, 
which  Nixon  reluctantly  granted.  For  half  an 
hour  they  used  every  art  of  persuasion  to  induce 
him  to  go  down  to  the  ball,  the  glorious  success 
of  which  was  glowingly  depicted  ;  but  Nixon 
remained  immovable,  and  they  took  their  depar- 
ture, baffled  and  cursing.  In  two  hours  they  re- 
turned drunk  enough  to  be  dangerous,  kicked  at 
the  door  in  vain,  finally  gained  entrance  through 
the  window,  hauled  Nixon  out  of  bed,  and  hold- 
ing a  glass  of  whisky  to  his  lips  bade  him  drink. 
But  he  knocked  the  glass  away,  spilling  the  liquor 
over  himself  and  the  bed. 

It  was  drink  or  fight,  and  Nixon  was  ready  to 
fight  ;  but  after  parley  they  had  a  drink  all  round 
and  fell  to  persuasion  again.  The  night  was 
cold,  and  poor  Nixon  sat  shivering  on  the  edge 
of  his  bed.  If  he  would  take  one  drink  they 
would  leave  him  alone.  Pie  need  not  show  him- 
self so  stiff.     The  whisky  fumes  fiUed  his  nostrils. 


150  Black  Rock. 

If  one  drink  would  get  them  off,  surely  that  was 
better  than  fighting  and  killing  some  one  or  get- 
ting killed.  He  hesitated,  yielded,  drank  his 
glass.  They  sat  about  him  amiably  drinking  and 
lauding  him  as  a  fine  fellow,  after  all.  One  more 
glass  before  they  left.  Then  Nixon  rose,  dressed 
himself,  drank  all  that  was  left  of  the  bottle,  put 
his  money  in  his  pocket,  and  came  down  to  the 
dance,  wild  with  his  old-time  madness,  reckless 
of  faith  and  pledge,  forgetful  of  home,  wife, 
babies,  his  whole  being  absorbed  in  one  great 
passion — to  drink  and  drink  and  drink  till  he 
could  drink  no  more. 

Before  Shaw  had  finished  his  tale  Craig's  eyes 
were  streaming  with  tears,  and  groans  of  rage 
and  pity  broke  alternately  from  him.  Abe  re- 
mained speechless  for  a  time,  not  trusting  him- 
self ;  but  as  he  heard  Craig  groan,  "  Oh,  the 
beasts !  the  fiends  !  "  he  seemed  encouraged  to 
let  himself  loose,  and  he  began  swearing  with 
the  coolest  and  most  blood-curdling  deliberation. 
Craig  listened  with  evident  approval,  apparently 
finding  complete  satisfaction  in  Abe's  perform- 
ance,  when  suddenly  he  seemed  to  waken  up, 
caught  Abe  by  the  arm,  and  said  in  a  horror- 
stricken  voice  : 

"  Stop !  stop  I  God  forgive  us  1  We  must  not 
swear  like  this." 


Black  Rock.  151 

Abe  stopped  at  once,  and  in  a  surprised  and 

slightly  grieved  voice  said  : 

"Why, what's  the  matter  with  that?  Ain't 
that  what  you  wanted  ? " 

**  Yes  I  yes  !  God  forgive  me  !  I  am  afraid  it 
was,"  he  answered  hm-riedly  ;  "  but  I  must  not." 

"  Oh,  don't  you  worry,"  went  on  Abe  cheer- 
fully. "I'll  look  after  that  part  ;  and,  anyway, 
ain't  they  the  blankest  blankety  blank "  go- 
ing off  again  into  a  roll  of  curses,  till  Craig,  in 
an  agony  of  entreat}?-,  succeeded  in  arresting  the 
flow  of  profanity  possible  to  no  one  but  a  moun- 
tain stage  driver.  Abe  paused,  looking  hurt,  and 
asked  if  they  did  not  deserve  everything  he  was 
calling  down  upon  them. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  urged  Craig  ;  "  but  that  is  not  our 
business." 

"  W  ell,  so  I  reckoned,"  replied  Abe,  recogniz- 
ing the  limitations  of  the  cloth.  "  You  ain't  used 
to  it,  and  you  can't  be  expected  to  do  it  ;  but  it 
just  makes  me  feel  good — let  out  o'  school  like — 

to  properly  do  'em  up,  the  blank,  blank "  and 

off  he  went  again.  It  was  only  under  the  pres- 
sure of  Mr.  Craig's  prayers  and  commands  that 
he  finally  agreed  "to  hold  in,  though  it  was 
tough," 

«  What's  to  be  done  ?  "  asked  Shaw. 

**  Kothing,"  answered  Craig  bitterly. 


152  Black  Rock. 

He  was  exhausted  with  his  long  ride  from  the 
Landing  and  broken  with  bitter  disappointment 
over  the  ruin  of  all  that  he  had  labored  so  long 
to  accomplish. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Graeme.  "  There's  a  good 
deal  to  do." 

It  was  agreed  that  Craig  should  remain  with 
Nixon  while  the  others  of  us  should  gather  up 
what  fragments  we  could  find  of  the  broken 
league.  We  had  just  opened  the  door,  when  we 
met  a  man  striding  up  at  a  great  pace.  It  was 
Geordie  Crawford. 

"  Hae  ye  seen  the  lad?"  was  his  salutation. 

No  one  replied.  So  I  told  Geordie  of  my  last 
sight  of  Billy  in  the  orchestra. 

"  An'  did  ye  no'  gang  aifter  him?"  he  asked 
in  indignant  surprise,  adding  with  some  contempt : 
"  Mon  !  but  ye're  a  feckless  buddie." 

"  Billy  gone  too  !  "  said  Shaw.  "  They  might 
have  let  Billy  alone." 

Poor  Craig  stood  in  a  dumb  agony.  Billy's 
fall  seemed  more  than  he  could  bear.  We  went 
out,  leaving  him  heart-broken  amid  the  ruins  of 
his  league. 


Black  Rock.  153 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  league's  revenge. 

As  we  stood  outside  of  Craig's  shack  in  the 
dun  starliffht  we  coukl  not  hide  from  ourselves 
that  we  were  beaten.  It  was  not  so  much  grief 
as  a  blind  fury  that  filled  my  heart,  and  looking 
at  the  faces  of  the  men  about  me  I  read  the  same 
feeling  there.  But  what  could  we  do  ?  The  yells 
of  carousing  miners  down  at  Slavin's  told  us  that 
nothing  could  be  done  with  them  that  night.  To 
be  so  utterly  beaten,  and  unfairly,  and  with  no 
chance  of  revenge,  was  maddening. 

"  I'd  like  to  get  back  at  'em,"  said  Abe,  care, 
fully  repressing  himself. 

"I've  got  it,  men,"  said  Graeme  suddenly. 
"  This  town  does  not  require  all  the  whisky  there 
is  in  it."  And  he  unfolded  his  plan.  It  was  to 
gain  possession  of  Slavin's  saloon  and  the  bar  of 
the  Black  Rock  Hotel,  and  clear  out  all  the  liquor 
to  be  found  in  both  these  places.  I  did  not  much 
like  the  idea ;  and  Geordie  said  ; 

"I'm  ga'en  aifter  the  lad.     I'll  hae  naethin' 


154  Black  Rock. 

tae  dae  wi'  yon.  It's  no'  that  easy,  an'  it's  a  sin- 
fu'  waste." 

But  Abe  was  wild  to  try  it  and  Shaw  was  quite 
willing,  while  old  Nelson  sternly  approved. 

"  Nelson,  you  and  Shaw  get  a  couple  of  our 
men  and  attend  to  the  saloon.  Slavin  and  the 
whole  gang  are  up  at  the  Black  Rock,  so  you 
won't  have  much  trouble ;  but  come  to  us  as  soon 
as  you  can." 

And  so  we  went  our  ways. 

Then  followed  a  scene  the  like  of  which  I  can 
never  hope  to  see  again,  and  it  was  worth  a  man's 
seeing.  But  there  were  times  that  night  when  I 
wished  I  had  not  agreed  to  follow  Graeme  in 
his  plot. 

As  we  went  up  to  the  hotel  I  asked  Graeme : 

"  What  about  the  law  of  this  ? " 

"  Law  !  "  he  replied  indignantly.  "  They 
haven't  troubled  much  about  law  in  the  whisky 
business  here.  They  get  a  keg  of  high  wine  and 
some  drugs  and  begin  operations.  No  !  "  he  went 
on  ;  "  if  we  can  get  the  crowd  out  and  ourselves 
in  we'll  make  them  break  the  law  in  getting  us 
out.  The  law  won't  trouble  us  over  smuggled 
whisk}'-.  It  will  be  a  great  lark,  and  they  won't 
crow  too  loud  over  the  league." 

I  did  not  like  the  undertaking  at  first,  but  as  I 
thought  of  the  whole  wretched  illegal   business 


Black  Rock.  155 

flourishing  upon  the  weakness  of  the  men  in  the 
mines  and  camps,  whom  I  had  learned  to  regard 
as  brothers,  and  especially  as  I  thought  of  the 
cowards  that  did  for  JS^ixon,  I  let  my  scruples  go 
and  determined,  with  Abe,  "  to  get  back  at  'em." 

We  had  no  difficulty  getting  them  out.  Abe 
began  to  yell.  Some  men  rushed  out  to  learn  the 
cause.  He  seized  the  foremost  man,  making  a 
hideous  uproar  all  the  while,  and  in  three  minutes 
had  every  man  out  of  t\-s  hotel  and  a  lively  row 
going  on. 

In  two  minutes  more  Graeme  and  I  had  the 
door  to  the  ball-room  locked  and  barricaded  with 
empty  casks.  "We  then  closed  the  door  of  the 
bar-room  leading  to  the  outside.  The  bar-room 
was  a  strongly  built  log  shack,  with  a  heavy  door 
secured,  after  themanner  of  the  early  cabins,  with 
two  strong  oak  bars,  so  that  we  felt  safe  from 
attack  from  that  quarter. 

The  ball-room  we  could  not  hold  long,  for  the 
door  was  slight  and  entrance  was  possible  through 
the  windows.  But  as  only  a  few  casks  of  liquor 
were  left  there,  our  main  work  would  be  in  the 
bar,  so  that  the  fight  would  be  to  hold  the  pas- 
sageway. This  vre  barricaded  with  casks  and 
tables.  But  by  this  time  the  crowd  had  begun  to 
realize  what  had  happened  and  were  wildly  yell- 
ing at  door  and  windows.     With  an  ax  which 


156  Black  Rock. 

Graeme  had  brought  with  him  the  casks  were 
soon  stove  in  and  left  to  empty  themselves. 

As  I  was  about  to  empty  the  last  cask  Graeme 
stopped  me,  saying :  "  Let  that  stand  here.  It 
will  help  us."  And  so  it  did.  "  Now  skip  for 
the  barricade,"  yelled  Graeme  as  a  man  came 
crashing  through  the  window.  Before  he  could 
regain  his  feet,  however,  Graeme  had  seized  him 
and  flung  him  out  upon  the  heads  of  the  crowd 
outside.  But  through  the  other  windows  men 
were  coming  in,  and  Graeme  rushed  for  the  bar- 
ricade, followed  by  two  of  the  enemy,  the  fore- 
most of  whom  I  received  at  the  top  and  hurled 
back  upon  the  others. 

"  Now,  be  quick  !  "  said  Graeme.  "  I'll  hold 
this.  Don't  break  any  bottles  on  the  floor — throw 
them  out  there,"  pointing  to  a  little  window  high 
up  in  the  wall. 

I  made  all  haste.  The  casks  did  not  take  much 
time,  and  soon  the  whisky  and  beer  were  flowing 
over  the  floor.  It  made  me  think  of  Geordie's 
regret  over  the  "sinfu'  waste."  The  bottles  took 
longer,  and  glancing  up  now  and  then  I  saw  that 
Graeme  was  being  hard  pressed.  Men  would 
leap,  two  and  three  at  a  time,  upon  the  barricade, 
and  Graeme's  arms  would  shoot  out,  and  over 
they  would  topple  upon  the  heads  of  those  nearest. 
It  was  a  great  sight  to  see  him  standing  alone 


Black  Rock.  i57 

with  a  smile  on  his  face  and  the  light  of  battle  in 
his  eye,  coolly  meeting  his  assailants  with  those 
terrific,  lightning-like  blows.  In  fifteen  minutes 
my  work  was  done. 

"  What  next  ? "  I  asked.    "  How  do  we  get  out  2 " 

"  How  is  the  door  ?  "  he  replied. 

I  looked  through  the  port-hole  and  said : 

"  A  crowd  of  men  waiting." 

"  We'll  have  to  make  a  dash  for  it,  I  fancy,"  he 
replied  cheerfully,  though  his  face  was  covered 
with  blood  and  his  breath  was  coming  in  short 
gasps. 

"  Get  down  the  bars  and  be  ready.'* 

But  even  as  he  spoke  a  chair  hurled  from  below 
caught  him  on  the  arm,  and  before  he  could  re- 
cover a  man  had  cleared  the  barricade  and  was 
upon  him  like  a  tiger.     It  was  Idaho  Jack. 

"  Hold  the  barricade,"  Graeme  called  out  as 
they  both  went  down. 

I  sprang  to  his  place,  but  I  had  not  much  hope 
of  holding  it  long.  I  had  the  heavy  oak  bar  of 
the  door  in  my  hands,  and  swinging  it  round  my 
head  I  made  the  crowd  give  back  for  a  few 
moments. 

Meantime  Graeme  had  shaken  off  his  enemy, 
who  was  circling  about  him  upon  his  tiptoes  with 
a  long  knife  in  his  hand,  waiting  for  a  chance  to 
spring. 


158  Black  Rock. 

"  I  have  been  waiting  for  this  for  some  time, 
Mr.  Graeme,"  he  said,  smiling. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Graeme,  "  ever  since  I  spoiled 
your  cut-throat  game  in  'Frisco.  How  is  the 
little  one  ?  "  he  added  sarcastically. 

Idaho's  face  lost  its  smile  and  became  distorted 
with  fury  as  he  replied,  spitting  out  his  words  : 

"  She — is — where  you  will  be  before  I  am  done 
with  3^ou." 

"  Ah  I  you  murdered  her  too !  You'll  hang 
some  beautiful  day,  Idaho,"  said  Graeme  as  Idaho 
sprang  upon  him. 

Graeme  dodged  his  blow  and  caught  his  fore- 
arm with  his  left  hand  and  held  up  high  the  mur- 
derous knife.  Back  and  forward  they  swayed 
over  the  floor,  slippery  with  whisky,  the  knife 
held  high  in  the  air.  I  wondered  why  Graeme 
did  not  strike,  and  then  I  saw  his  right  hand 
hung  limp  from  the  wrist.  The  men  were  crowd- 
ing upon  the  barricade.  I  was  in  despair. 
Graeme'^  strength  was  going  fast.  "With  a  yell 
of  exultant  fury  Idaho  threw  himself  with  all  his 
weight  upon  Graeme,  who  could  onlJ^  chng  to  him. 
They  swayed  together  toward  me,  but  as  they  fell 
I  brought  down  my  bar  upon  the  upraised  hand 
and  sent  the  knife  flying  across  the  room. 
Idaho's  howl  of  rage  and  pain  was  mingled  with 
a  shout  from  below,  and  there,  dashing  the  cro  vd 


Nearer  and    nearer  his    outstretched  fingers    came  to    the  knife. 
Page  159. 

—Black  Rock. 


Black  Rock.  159 

to  right  and  left,  came  old  Kelson,  followed  by 
Abe,  Sandy,  Baptiste.  ShaAv,  and  others.  As  they 
reached  the  barricade  it  crashed  down  and,  carry- 
ing rae  with  it,  pinned  me  fast. 

Looking  out  between  the  barrels,  I  saw  what 
froze  my  heart  with  horror.  In  the  fall  Graeme 
had  wound  his  arms  about  his  enemy  and  held 
him  in  a  grip  so  deadly  that  he  could  not  strike ; 
but  Graeme's  strength  was  failing,  and  when  I 
looked  I  saw  that  Idaho  was  slowly  dragging 
both  across  the  slipper}^  floor  to  where  the  knife 
lay.  Nearer  and  nearer  his  outstretched  fingers 
came  to  the  knife.  In  vain  I  yelled  and  strug- 
gled. My  voice  was  lost  in  the  awful  din  and  the 
barricade  held  me  fast.  Above  me,  standing  on 
a  barrel-head,  was  Baptiste,  yelling  like  a  demon. 
In  vain  I  called  to  him.  My  fingers  could  just  reach 
his  foot,  and  he  heeded  not  at  all  my  touch. 
Slowly  Idaho  was  dragging  his  almost  uncon. 
scious  victim  toward  l:he  knife.  His  fingers  were 
touching  the  blade  point,  when,  under  a  sudden 
inspiration,  I  pulled  out  my  penknife,  opened  it 
with  my  teeth,  and  drove  the  blade  into  Baptiste's 
foot.  With  a  blood-curdling  yell  he  sprang  down 
and  began  dancing  round  in  his  rage,  peering 
among  the  barrels. 

"  Look !  look !  "  I  was  calling  in  agony  and 
pointing.     "  For  Heaven's  sake,  look,  Baptiste ! " 


i6o  Black  Kocic. 

The  fingers  had  closed  upon  the  knife,  the  knife 
was  already  high  in  the  air,  when,  with  a  shriek, 
Baptiste  cleared  the  room  at  a  bound,  and  before 
the  knife  could  fall,  the  little  Frenchman's  boot 
had  caught  the  uplifted  wrist  and  sent  the  knife 
flying  to  the  wall. 

Then  there  was  a  great  rushing  sound  as  of 
wind  through  the  forest,  and  the  lights  went  out. 
When  I  awoke  I  found  m^^self  lying  with  my 
head  on  Graeme's  knees  and  Baptiste  sprinkling 
snow  on  my  face.  As  I  looked  up  Graeme  leaned 
over  me,  and,  smiling  down  into  my  eyes,  he  said  : 

"  Good  boy  !  It  was  a  great  fight,  and  we  put 
it  up  well ;  "  and  then  he  whispered  :  "  I  owe  you 
my  life,  my  boy." 

His  words  thrilled  my  heart  through  and 
through,  for  I  loved  him  as  only  men  can  love 
men  ;  but  I  only  answered  : 

"  I  could  not  keep  them  back." 

"  It  was  well  done,"  he  said  ;  and  I  felt  proud. 

I  confess  I  was  thankful  to  be  so  well  out  of  it, 
for  Graeme  got  off  with  a  bone  in  his  wrist  broken 
and  I  with  a  couple  of  ribs  cracked ;  but  had  it 
not  been  for  the  open  barrel  of  whisky  which 
kept  them  occupied  for  a  time,  offering  too  good 
a  chance  to  be  lost,  and  for  the  timely  arrival  of 
Nelson,  neither  of  us  had  ever  seen  the  light  again. 

We  found  Craig  sound  asleep  upon  his  couch. 


Black  Rock.  i6r 

His  consternation  on  waking  to  see  us  torn, 
bruised,  and  bloody  Avas  laughable ;  but  he  has- 
tened to  find  us  warm  water  and  bandages,  and  we 
soon  felt  comfortable. 

Baptiste  was  radiant  with  pride  and  light  over 
the  fight  and  hovered  about  Graeme  and  me, 
giving  vent  to  his  feelings  in  admiring  French  and 
English  expletives.  But  Abe  Avas  disgusted 
because  of  the  failure  at  Slavin's  ;  for  Avhen  ]S"el- 
son  looked  in  he  saw  Slavin's  French-Canadian 
wife  in  charge,  with  her  baby  on  her  lap,  and  he 
came  back  to  Shaw  and  said,  "  Come  away  ;  we 
can't  touch  this  ; "  and  Shaw,  after  looking  in, 
agreed  that  nothing  could  be  done.  A  baby  held 
the  fort. 

As  Craig  listened  to  the  account  of  the  fight  he 
tried  hard  not  to  approve,  but  he  could  not  keep 
the  gleam  out  of  his  eyes;  and  as  I  pictured 
(xraenie  dashing  back  the  crowd  thronging  the 
barricade  till  he  was  brought  down  by  the  chair, 
Craig  laughed  gently  and  put  his  hand  on 
Graeme's  knee.  And  as  I  went  on  to  describe 
my  agony  Avhile  Idaho's  fingers  were  gradually 
nearing  the  knife,  his  face  grew  pale  and  his  eyes 
grew  wide  with  horror. 

"  Baptiste,  here,  did  the  business,"  I  said,  and 
the  little   Frenchman  nodded  complacently  and 
said : 
II 


1 62  Black  Rock. 

"  Dat's  me  for  sure." 

"  By  the  way,  how  is  your  foot  ? "  asked 
Graeme. 

"  He's  fuss  rate.  Dat's  what  you  call — one  bite 
of — of — dat  leel  bees.  He's  dere,  you  put  your 
finger  dere,  he's  not  dere — what  you  call  him  ?  " 

"  Flea  !  "  I  suggested. 

"  Qui  I  "  cried  Baptiste.  "  Dat's  one  bite  of 
flea." 

"  I  was  thankful  I  was  under  the  barrels,"  I 
replied,  smiling. 

"  Qui  !  Dat's  mak'  me  ver'  mad,  I  jump  an' 
swear  mos'  awful  bad.  Dat's  pardon  me,  M'sieu 
Craig,  heh  ? " 

But  Craig  only  smiled  at  him  rather  sadly. 

"It  was  awfully  risky,"  he  said  to  Graeme, 
"  and  it  was  hardly  worth  it.  They'll  get  more 
whisky,  and  anyway  the  league  is  gone." 

"  Well,"  said  Graeme  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction, 
"  it  is  not  quite  such  a  one-sided  affair  as  it  was." 

And  we  could  say  nothing  in  reply,  for  we 
could  hear  Nixon  snoring  in  the  next  room,  and 
no  one  had  heard  of  Billy,  and  there  were  others 
of  the  league  that  we  knew  were  even  now  down 
at  Slavin's.  It  was  thought  best  that  all  should 
remain  in  Mr.  Craig's  shack,  not  knowing  what 
might  happen  ;  and  so  we  lay  where  we  could 
and  we  needed  none  to  sing  us  to  sleep. 


Black  Rock.  163 

When  I  awoke,  stiff  and  sore,  it  was  to  find 
breakfast  ready  and  okl  man  Nelson  in  charge. 
As  we  were  seated  Craig  came  in,  and  I  saw  that 
ho  was  not  the  man  of  the  night  before.  His 
courage  had  come  back,  his  face  was  quiet,  and 
his  eye  clear;  he  was  his  own  man  again. 

"  Geordie  has  been  out  all  night,  but  has  failed 
to  find  Billy,"  he  announced  quietly. 

We  did  not  talk  much.  Graeme  and  I  worried 
with  our  broken  bones,  and  the  others  suffered 
from  a  general  morning  depression.  But  after 
breakfast,  as  the  men  were  beginning  to  move, 
Craig  took  down  his  Bible,  and  saying,  "  Wait  a 
few  minutes,  men !  •'  he  read  slowly,  in  his  beau- 
tiful clear  voice,  that  psalm  for  all  fighters — 

"  God  is  our  refuge  and  strength," 
and  so  on  to  the  nobler  words — 

"  The  Lord  of  Sosts  is  with  us  ; 
The  God  of  Jacob  is  our  refuge." 

How  the  mighty  words  pulled  us  together, 
lifted  us  till  we  grew  ashamed  of  our  ignoble 
rage  and  of  our  ignoble  depression  ! 

And  then  Craig  prayed  in  simple,  straight-going 
words.  There  was  acknowledgment  of  failure, 
but  I  knew  he  was  thinking  chiefly  of  himself  ; 
and  there  was  gratitude,  and  that  was  for  the  men 
about  him,  and  I  felt  my  face  burn  with  shame ; 


164  Black  Rock, 

and  there  was  petition  for  help,  and  we  all  thought 
of  Xixon,  and  Billv,  and  the  men  wakening  from 
their  debauch  at  Slavin's  this  pure,  bright  morn- 
ing.  And  then  he  asked  that  we  might  be  made 
faithful  and  worthy  of  God,  whose  battle  it  was. 
Then  we  all  stood  up  and  shook  hands  with  him 
in  silence,  and  every  man  knew  a  covenant  was 
being  made.  But  none  saw  his  meeting  with 
Kixon.     He  sent  us  all  away  before  that. 

J^othing  was  heard  of  the  destruction  of  the 
hotel  stock  in  trade.  Unpleasant  questions 
would  certainly  be  asked,  and  the  proprietor  de- 
cided to  let  bad  alone.  On  the  point  of  respect- 
ability the  success  of  the  ball  was  not  conspicu- 
ous, but  the  anti-league  men  were  content  if  not 
jubilant. 

Billy  Breen  was  found  by  Geordie  late  in  the 
afternoon  in  his  own  old  and  deserted  shack, 
breathing  heavily,  covered  up  in  his  filthy,  mol- 
dering  bedclothes,  with  a  half-empty  bottle  of 
whisky  at  his  side.  Geordie's  grief  and  rage 
were  beyond  even  his  Scotch  control.  He  spoke 
few  words,  but  these  were  of  such  concentrated 
vehemence  that  no  one  felt  the  need  of  Abe's 
assistance  in  vocabulary. 

Poor  Billy !  We  carried  him  to  Mrs.  Mavor's 
home,  put  him  in  a  warm  bath,  rolled  him  in 
blankets,  and  gave  him  little  sips  of  hot  water. 


Black  Rock.  165 

then  of  hot  milk  and  coffee,  as  I  had  seen  a  clever 
doctor  in  the  hospital  treat  a  similar  case  of  nerve 
and  heart  depression.  But  the  ah*eady  weakened 
system  could  not  recover  from  tlie  awful  shock  of 
the  exposure  following  the  debauch,  and  on  Sun- 
day afternoon  we  saw  that  his  heart  was  failing 
fast.  All  day  the  miners  had  been  dropping  in 
to  inquire  after  him,  for  Billy  had  been  a  great 
favorite  in  other  tlays,  and  the  attention  of  the 
town  had  been  admiringly  centered  upon  his  fight 
of  these  last  weeks.  It  was  with  no  ordinary 
sorrow  that  the  news  of  his  condition  was  received. 
As  Mrs.  Mavor  sang  to  him  his  large  coarse  hands 
moved  in  time  to  the  music,  but  he  did  not  open 
his  eyes  till  he  heard  Mr,  Craig's  voice  in  the  next 
room;  then  he  spoke  his  name,  and  Mr.  Craig 
was  kneeling  beside  him  in  a  moment.  The  words 
came  slowly : 

"  Oi  tried — to  fight  it  hout — but — Oi  got  beat. 
Hit  'urts  to  think  'E's  hashamed  o'  me.  Oi'd  like 
t'  a-done  better — Oi  would." 

"  Ashamed  of  you,  Billy !  "  said  Craig  in  a 
voice  that  broke.     "  Not  lie." 

"  An' — 3^e  hall — 'elped  me  so  !  "  he  went  on. 
"Oi  wish  Oi'd  a-done  better — Oi  do,"  and  his 
eyes  sought  Geordie  and  then  rested  on  Mrs. 
Mavor,  who  smiled  back  at  him  with  a  world  of 
love  in  her  eyes. 


i66  Black  Rock. 

"  You  hain't  ashamed  o'  me — yore  heyes  saigh 
so,"  he  said,  looking  at  her. 

"No,  Billy,"  she  said,  and  I  wondered  at  her 
steady  voice,  "  not  a  bit.  Why,  Billy,  I  am  proud 
of  you." 

He  gazed  up  at  her  with  wonder  and  ineffable 
love  in  his  little  eyes,  then  lifted  his  hand  slightly 
toward  her.  She  knelt  quickly  and  took  it  in 
both  of  hers,  stroking  it  and  kissing  it. 

"  Oi  hought  t'  a-done  better.  Oi'm  hawful  sorry 
Oi  went  back  on  'Ira.  Hit  was  the  lemonade. 
The  boys  didn't  mean  no  'arm — but  hit  started 
the  'ell  hinside." 

Geordie  hurled  out  some  bitter  words. 

"  Don't  be  'ard  on  'em,  Geordie.  They  didn't 
mean  no  'arm,"  he  said,  and  his  eyes  kept  waiting 
till  Geordie  said  hurriedly  : 

"  Na  !  na !  lad — I'll  juist  leave  them  till  the 
Alraichty." 

Then  Mrs.  Mavor  sang  softly,  smoothing  his 
hand,  "  Just  as  I  am,"  and  Billy  dozed  quietly  for 
half  an  hour. 

When  he  awoke  again  his  eyes  turned  to  Mr. 
Craig,  and  they  were  troubled  and  anxious. 

"  Oi  tried  'ard.  Oi  wanted  to  win,"  he  strug- 
gled  to  say. 

By  this  time  Craig  was  master  of  himself,  and 
he  answered  in  a  clear,  distinct  voice : 


Black  Rock.  167 

"  Listen,  Billy  I  You  made  a  great  fight  and 
you  are  going  to  win  yet.  And  besides,  do  you 
remember  the  sheep  that  got  lost  over  the  moun- 
tains ?  "  This  parable  was  Billy's  special  delight. 
"  He  didn't  beat  it  when  He  got  it,  did  He  ?  He 
took  it  in  His  arms  and  carried  it  home.  And  so 
He  will  you." 

And  Billy,  keeping  his  eyes  fastened  on  Mr. 
Craig,  simply  said  : 

"Will'E?" 

"  Sure  !  "  said  Craig. 

"  Will  'E  ? "  he  repeated,  turning  his  eyes  upon 
Mrs.  Mavor. 

"  Why,  yes,  Billy,"  she  answered  cheerily,  though 
the  tears  were  streaming  from  her  eyes.  "  I  would, 
and  He  loves  you  far  more." 

He  looked  at  her,  smiled,  and  closed  his  eyes. 
I  put  my  hand  on  his  heart ;  it  was  fluttering 
feebly.  Again  a  troubled  look  passed  over  his 
face. 

"  My — poor — hold — mother,"  he  whispered  ; 
"  she's — hin — the — wukus." 

"  I  shall  take  care  of  her,  Billy,"  said  Mrs.  Mavor 
in  a  clear  voice,  and  again  Billy  smiled. 

Then  he  turned  his  eyes  to  Mr.  Craig,  and  from 
him  to  Geordie,  and  at  last  to  Mrs.  Mavor,  where 
they  rested.  She  bent  over  and  kissed  him  twice 
on  the  forehead. 


i68  Black  Rock. 

"  Tell  'er,"  he  said  with  difficulty, «  'E's  took  me 
'ome." 

"  Yes,  Billy ! "  she  cried,  gazing  into  his  glazing 
eyes. 

He  tried  to  lift  her  hand.  She  kissed  him  again. 
He  drew  one  deep  breath  and  lay  quite  still. 

"  Thank  the  blessed  Saviour  !  "  said  Mr.  Craiff 
reverently.     "  He  has  taken  him  home." 

But  Mrs.  Mavor  held  the  dead  hand  tight  and 
sobbed  out  passionately  : 

"  Oh,  Billy  !  Billy  !  You  helped  me  once  when 
I  needed  help  !     I  cannot  forget  !  " 

And  Geordie,  groaning,  "  Aye,  laddie,  laddie," 
passed  out  into  the  fading  light  of  the  early 
evening. 

Next  day  no  one  went  to  work,  for  to  all  it 
seemed  a  sacred  day.  They  carried  him  into  the 
little  church,  and  there  Mr.  Craig  spoke  of  his 
long,  hard  fight  and  of  his  final  victory  ;  for  he 
died  without  a  fear  and  with  love  to  the  men  who, 
not  knowing,  had  been  his  death.  And  there  was 
no  bitterness  in  any  heart,  for  Mr.  Craig  read  the 
story  of  the  sheep  and  told  how  gently  He  had 
taken  Billy  home  ;  but  though  no  word  was 
spoken,  it  was  there  the  league  was  made  again. 

They  laid  him  under  the  pines  beside  Lewis 
Mavor,  and  the  miners  threw  sprigs  of  ever- 
green into  the  open  grave.    When  Slavin,  sobbing 


Black  Rock.  169 

bitterly,  brought  his  sprig,  no  one  stopped  him, 
though  all  thought  it  strange. 

As  we  turned  to  leave  the  grave  the  light  from 
the  evening  sun  came  softly  through  the  gap  in  the 
mountains,  and  filling  the  valley  touched  the  trees 
and  the  little  mound  beneath  with  glory.  And 
I  thought  of  that  other  glory,  which  is  brighter 
than  the  sun,  and  was  not  sorry  that  poor  Bilh^'s 
weary  fight  was  over  ;  and  I  could  not  help 
agreeing  with  Craig  that  it  was  there  the  league 
had  its  revenge. 


170  Black  Rock. 


CHAPTER  X. 

WHAT  CAME  TO  SLAVIN. 

Billy  Breen's  legacy  to  the  Black  Rwck  min- 
ing canip  was  a  new  league,  which  was  more  than 
the  old  league  remade.  The  league  was  new  in  its 
spirit  and  in  its  methods.  The  impression  made 
upon  the  camp  by  Billy  Breen's  death  was  very 
remarkable,  and  1  have  never  been  quite  able  to 
account  for  it.  The  mood  of  the  community  at 
the  time  was  peculiarly  susceptible.  Billy  was 
one  of  the  oldest  of  the  old-timers.  His  decline 
and  fall  had  been  a  long  process,  and  his  struggle 
for  life  and  manhood  was  striking  enough  to 
arrest  the  attention  and  awaken  the  sympathy  of 
the  whole  camp.  We  instinctively  side  with  a 
man  in  his  struggle  for  freedom,  for  we  feel  that 
freedom  is  native  to  him  and  to  us.  The  sudden 
collapse  of  the  struggle  stirred  the  men  with  a 
deep  pity  for  the  beaten  man  and  a  deep  contempt 
for  those  who  had  tricked  him  to  his  doom.  But 
though  the  pity  and  the  contempt  remained,  the 
gloom  was  relieved  and  the  sense  of  defeat  re- 
moved from  the  men's  minds  by  the  transforming 


Black  Rock.  171 

glory  of  Billy's  last  hour.  Mr.  Craig,  reading  of 
the  tragedy  of  Bill3''s  death,  transfigured  defeat 
into  victory,  and  tliis  was  generally  accepted  by 
the  men  as  the  true  readino:,  thouo^h  to  them  it 
was  full  of  mystery.  But  they  could  all  under- 
stand and  appreciate  at  full  value  the  spirit  that 
breathed  throuo'h  the  words  of  the  dving:  man  : 
"Don't  be  'ard  on  'era.  They  didn't  mean  no 
'arm."     And  this  was  the  new  spirit  of  the  league. 

It  was  this  spirit  that  surprised  Slavin  into 
sudden  tears  at  the  grave's  side.  Ife  had  come 
braced  for  curses  and  vengeance,  for  all  knew  it 
was  he  who  had  doctored  Billy's  lemonade,  and 
instead  of  vengeance  the  message  from  the  dead 
that  echoed  through  the  voice  of  the  living  was 
one  of  pity  and  forgiveness. 

But  the  days  of  the  league's  negative,  defensive 
warfare  were  over.  The  fight  was  to  the  death, 
and  now  the  war  was  to  be  carried  into  the 
enemy's  country.  The  league  men  proposed  a 
thoroughly  equipped  and  well-conducted  coffee- 
room,  reading-room,  and  hall,  to  parallel  the 
enemy's  lines  of  operation  and  defeat  them  with 
their  own  weapons  upon  their  own  ground.  The 
main  outlines  of  the  scheme  were  clearly  defined 
and  were  easily  seen,  but  the  perfecting  of  the 
details  called  for  all  Craig's  tact  and  good  sense. 
"When,  for  instance,  Yernon   Winton,   who  had 


172  Black  Rock. 

charge  of  the  entertainment  department,  came  for 
Craig's  opinion  as  to  a  minstrel  troupe  and  private 
theatricals,  Craig  was  prompt  with  his  answer  : 

"  Anything  clean  goes." 

"  A  nigger  show  ?  "  asked  Winton. 

"  Depends  upon  the  niggers,"  replied  Craig 
with  a  gravely  comic  look,  shrewdly  adding: 
«  Ask  Mrs.  Mavor." 

And  so  the  League  Minstrel  and  Dramatic  Com- 
pany became  an  established  fact,  and  proved,  as 
Craig  afterward  told  me,  "  a  great  means  of  grace 
to  the  camp." 

Shaw  had  charge  of  the  social  department, 
whose  special  care  it  was  to  see  that  the  men 
were  made  welcome  to  the  cozy,  cheerful  reading- 
room,  where  they  might  chat,  smoke,  read,  write, 
or  play  games,  according  to  fancy. 

But  Craig  felt  that  the  success  or  failure  of  the 
scheme  would  largely  depend  upon  the  character 
of  the  resident  manager,  w^ho,  while  caring  for 
reading-room  and  hall,  would  control  and  operate 
the  important  department  represented  by  the 
coffee-room. 

"  At  this  point  the  whole  business  may  come  to 
grief,"  he  said  to  Mrs.  Mavor,  without  whose 
counsel  nothing  was  done. 

"  Why  come  to  grief  ? "  she  asked  brightly^ 

"  Because  if  we  don't  get  the  right  man  that's 


Black  Rock.  173 

what  will  happen,"  he  replied  in  a  tone  that  spoke 
of  anxious  worry. 

"  But  we  shall  get  the  right  man,  never  fear." 
Her  serene  courage  never  faltered.  "  He  will 
come  to  us." 

Craig  turned  and  gazed  at  her  in  frank  admi- 
ration and  said : 

"  If  I  only  had  your  courage  !  " 

"  Courage !  "  she  answered  quickly.  "  It  is  not 
for  you  to  say  that." 

And  at  his  answering  look  the  red  came  into 
her  cheek  and  the  depths  in  her  eyes  glowed,  and 
I  marveled  and  wondered,  looking  at  Craig's  cool 
face,  whether  his  blood  were  running  evenly 
through  his  veins.  But  his  voice  was  quiet — a 
shade  too  quiet,  I  thought — as  he  gravely  replied  : 

"  I  would  often  be  a  coward  but  for  the  shame 
of  it." 

And  so  the  league  waited  for  the  man  to  come 
who  Avas  to  be  resident  manager  and  make  the 
new  enterprise  a  success.  And  come  he  did ;  but 
the  manner  of  his  coming  was  so  extraordinary 
that  I  have  believed  in  the  doctrine  of  a  special 
providence  ever  since;  for  as  Craig  said:  "If 
he  had  come  straight  from  heaven  I  could  not 
have  been  more  surprised." 

"Wliile  the  league  was  thus  waiting  its  interest 
centered  upon  Slavin,  chiefly  because  he  repre- 


174  Black  Rock. 

sented  more  than  any  other  the  forces  of  the 
enemy ;  and  though  Billy  Breen  stood  between 
hira  and  the  vengeance  of  the  angry  men  who 
would  have  made  short  work  of  him  and  his 
saloon,  nothing  could  save  him  from  himself,  and 
after  the  funeral  Slavin  went  to  his  bar  and  drank 
whisky  as  he  had  never  drunk  before.  But  the 
more  he  drank  the  fiercer  and  gloomier  he  be- 
came, and  when  the  men  drinking  with  him 
chaffed  him,  he  swore  deeply  and  with  such 
tlireats  that  they  left  him  alone. 

It  did  not  help  Slavin,  either,  to  have  Nixon 
stride  in  through  the  crowd  drinking  at  his  bar 
and  give  him  words  of  warning. 

"  It  is  not  youK  fault,  Slavin,"  he  said  in  slow, 
cool  voice,  "  that  you  and  your  precious  crew 
didn't  send  me  to  my  death,  too.  You've  won 
your  bet,  but  I  want  to  say  that  next  time, 
though  you  are  seven  to  one,  or  ten  times  that, 
when  any  of  you  hoys  offer  me  a  drink  I'll  take 
you  to  mean  fight,  and  I'll  not  disappoint  you, 
and  some  one  will  be  killed," 

And  so  saying  he  strode  out  again,  leaving  a 
mean-looking  crowd  of  men  behind  him.  All 
who  had  not  been  concerned  in  the  business  at 
Nixon's  shack  expressed  approval  of  his  position 
and  hoped  he  would  "  see  it  through." 

But   the  impression  of  Nixon's  words  upon 


Black  Rock.  '  175 

Slavin  "was  as  nothing  compared  "with  tliat  made 
by  Geordie  Crawford.  It  was  not  what  he  said 
so  much  as  the  manner  of  awful  solemnity  he  car- 
ried. Geordie  Avas  strug-gling  conscientiously  to 
keep  his  promise  to  "  not  be  'ard  on  the  boys," 
and  found  considerable  relief  in  remembering 
that  he  had  agreed  "  to  leave  them  tae  the  Al- 
michty."  But  the  manner  of  leaving  them  was 
so  solemnly  awful  that  I  could  not  wonder  that 
Slavin's  superstitious  Irish  nature  supplied  him 
with  supernatural  terrors. 

It  Avas  the  second  day  after  the  funeral  that 
Geordie  and  I  were  walking  toward  Slavin's. 
There  was  a  great  shout  of  laughter  as  we  drew 
near. 

Geordie  stopped  short,  and  saying,  "  We'll  just 
gang  in  a  meenute,"  passed  through  the  crowd 
and  up  to  the  bar. 

"  Michael  Slavin,"  began  Geordie,  and  the  men 
stared  in  dead  silence,  with  their  glasses  in  their 
hands — "  Michael  Slavin,  I  promised  the  lad  I'd 
bear  ye  nae  ill-wull,  but  juist  leave  ye  tae  the  Al- 
michty  ;  an'  I  want  tae  tell  ye  that  I'mkeepin'  ma 
wur-r-d.  But  " — and  here  he  raised  his  hand  and 
his  voice  became  preternatu rally  solemn — "  his 
bluid  is  upon  yer  ban's.     Do  ye  no'  see  it  ? " 

His  voice  rose  sharply,  and  as  he  pointed 
Slavin  instinctively  glanced   at   his  hands,   and 


176  Black  Rock. 

Geordie  added:  "  Aye,  an'  the  Lord  will  require 
it  o'  you  an'  yer  hoose." 

They  told  me  that  Slavin  shivered  as  if  taken 
with  ague  after  Geordie  went  out,  and  though  he 
laughed  and  swore,  he  did  not  stop  drinking  till 
he  sank  into  a  drunken  stupor  and  had  to  be  car- 
ried to  bed.  His  little  French-Canadian  wife 
could  not  understand  the  change  that  had  come 
over  her  husband. 

"  He's  like  one  bear,"  she  confided  to  Mrs, 
Mavor,  to  whom  she  was  showing  her  baby  of  a 
year  old.  "  He's  not  kees  me  one  tani  dis  day. 
He's  most  hawful  bad.  He's  not  even  look  at  de 
baby." 

And  this  seemed  sufficient  proof  that  some- 
thing was  seriously  wrong ;  for  she  went  on  to 
say: 

"  He's  tink  more  for  dat  leel  bab}^  dan  for  de 
whole  worP ;  he's  tink  more  for  dat  baby  dan 
for  me,"  but  she  shrugged  her  pretty  little 
shoulders  in  deprecation  of  her  speech. 

"  You  must  pray  for  him,"  said  Mrs.  Mavor, 
"  and  all  will  come  right." 

"  Ah  !  madame ! "  she  replied  earnestly, "  every 
day,  every  day  I  pray  la  sainte  Vierge  et  tons  les 
saints  for  him." 

"  You  must  pray  to  jour  Father  in  heaven  for 
him." 


Black  Rock.  177 

"  Ah  !  oui  /  I  weel  pray,"  and  Mrs.  Mavor  sent 
her  away  bright  with  smiles  and  with  new  hope 
and  courage  in  her  heart. 

She  had  very  soon  need  of  all  her  courage,  for 
at  the  week's  end  her  baby  fell  dangerously  ill. 
Slavin's  anxiety  and  fear  were  not  relieved  much 
by  the  reports  the  men  brought  him  from  time  to 
time  of  Geordie's  ominous  forebodings,  for  Geor- 
die  had  no  doubt  but  that  the  Avenger  of  Blood 
was  hot  upon  Slavin's  trail  ;  and  as  the  sickness 
grew  he  became  confirmed  in  this  conviction. 
"While  he  could  not  be  said  to  find  satisfaction 
in  Slavin's  impending  affliction,  he  could  hardly 
hide  his  complacency  in  the  promptness  of  Prov- 
idence in  vindicating  his  theory  of  retribution. 

But  Geordie's  complacency  was  somewhat 
rudely  shocked  by  Mr.  Craig's  answer  to  his 
theory  one  day. 

"  You  read  your  Bible  to  little  profit,  it  seems  to 
me,  Geordie,  or  perhaps  you  have  never  read  the 
Master's  teaching  about  the  Tower  of  Siloam. 
Better  read  that  and  take  that  warning  to  your- 
self." 

Geordie  gazed  after  Mr.  Craig  as  he  turaed 
away  and  muttered : 

"  The  Toor  o'  Siloam,  is  it  ?  Aye,  I  ken  fine 
aboot  the  Toor  o'  Siloam  an'  aboot  the  Toor  o' 
Babel  as  weel ;  an'  I've  read,  too,  aboot  the 

13 


178  Black  Rock. 

blaspheemious  Herod,  an'  sic  like.  Mon,  but 
he's  a  hot-lieided  laddie  an'  lacks  discreemeena- 
tion." 

"  What  about  Herod,  Geordie  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Aboot  Herod  ?  "  with  a  strong  tinge  of  con- 
tempt in  his  tone.  "  Aboot  Herod  ?  Mon,  hae 
ye  no'  read  in  the  Screepturs  aboot  Herod  an'  the 
wur-r-ms  in  the  wame  o'  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  see,"  I  hastened  to  answer. 

"  Aye,  a  fule  can  see  what's  flapped  in  his  face," 
with  which  bit  of  proverbial  philosophy  he  sud- 
denly left  me. 

But  Geordie  thenceforth  contented  himself,  in 
Mr.  Craig's  presence  at  least,  with  ominous  head- 
shakings,  equally  aggravating  and  impossible  to 
answer. 

That  same  night,  however,  Geordie  showed 
that  with  all  his  theories  he  had  a  man's  true 
heart,  for  he  came  in  haste  to  Mrs.  Mavor  to 
say: 

"  Ye'll  be  needed  ower  yonder,  I'm  thinkin'." 

"  Why  ?  Is  the  baby  worse  ?  Have  you  been 
in?" 

"  Ka,  na,"  replied  Geordie  cautiously,  "  I'll  no 
gang  where  I'm  no  wanted.  But  yon  puir  thing 
ye  can  hear  outside  weepin'  an'  moanin'.  She's 
maybe  need  ye  tae,"  he  went  on  dubiously  to  me. 
"  Ye're  a  kind  o'  doctor,  I  hear,"  not  committing 


Black  Rock,  179 

himself  to  any  opinion  as  to  my  professional 
value.  But  Slavin  would  have  none  of  me,  having 
got  the  doctor  sober  enough  to  prescribe. 

The  interest  of  the  camp  in  Slavin  was  greatly 
increased  by  the  illness  of  his  baby,  which  was 
to  him  as  the  apple  of  his  eye.  There  were  a  few 
who,  impressed  by  Geordie's  profound  convic- 
tions upon  the  matter,  were  inclined  to  favor  the 
retribution  theory  and  connect  the  baby's  illness 
with  the  vengeance  of  the  Almighty.  Among 
these  few  was  Slavin  himself,  and  goaded  by  his 
remorseful  terrors  he  sought  relief  in  drink.  But 
this  brought  him  only  deeper  and  fiercer  gloom, 
so  that  between  her  suffering  child  and  her  sav- 
agely despairing  husband,  the  poor  mother  was 
desperate  with  terror  and  grief. 

"  Ah !  madame,"  she  sobbed  to  Mrs.  Mavor, 
"  my  heart  is  broke  for  him.  He's  heet  notting 
for  tree  days,  but  jis  dreenk,  dreenk,  dreenk." 

The  next  day  a  man  came  for  me  in  haste. 
The  baby  was  dying  and  the  doctor  was  drunk. 
I  found  the  little  one  in  a  convulsion  lying  across 
Mrs.  Mavor's  knees,  the  mother  kneeling  beside 
it,  wringing  her  hands  in  -a  dumb  agony,  and 
Slavin  standing  near,  silent  and  suffering.  I 
glanced  at  the  bottle  of  medicine  upon  the  table 
and  asked  Mrs.  Mavor  the  dose,  and  found  the 
baby  had  been  poisoned.    My  look  of  horror  told 


l8o  Black  Rock. 

Slavin  something  was  wrong,  and  striding  to  me 
he  caught  my  arm  and  asked  : 

"  What  is  it  ?     Is  the  medicine  wrong? " 

I  tried  to  put  him  off,  but  his  grip  tightened 
till  his  fingers  seemed  to  reach  the  bone. 

"  The  dose  is  certainly  too  large ;  but  let  me 
go — I  must  do  something." 

He  let  me  go  at  once,  saying  in  a  voice  that 
made  my  heart  sore  for  him :  "  He  has  killed  my 
baby ;  he  has  killed  my  baby."  And  then  he 
cursed  the  doctor  with  awful  curses,  and  with  a 
look  of  such  murderous  fury  on  his  face  that  I 
was  glad  the  doctor  was  too  drunk  to  appear. 

His  wife,  hearing  his  curses  and  understanding 
the  cause,  broke  out  into  wailing  hard  to  bear. 

"  Ah  !  1  lion  petit  ange  !  It  is  dat  wheesky  dat's 
keel  my  baby.  Ah  !  mon  cheri^  tnon  amour.  Ah  ! 
mon  Dieu !  Ah,  Michael,  how  often  I  say  dat 
wheesky  he's  not  good  ting." 

It  was  more  than  Slavin  could  bear,  and  with 
awful  curses  he  passed  out.  Mrs.  Mavor  laid  the 
baby  in  its  crib,  for  the  convulsion  had  passed 
away  ;  and  putting  her  arras  about  the  wailing 
little  Frenchwoman,  comforted  and  soothed  her  as 
a  mother  might  her  child. 

"  And  you  must  help  your  husband,"  I  heard 
her  say.  "  He  will  need  you  more  than  ever.  - 
Think  of  him," 


Black  Rock.  i8i 

"All !  oui !  I  weel,"  was  the  quick  reply,  and 
from  til  at  moment  there  was  no  more  wailing-. 

It  seemed  no  moi-e  than  a  minute  till  Slavin 
came  in  again,  sober,  quiet,  and  stead\' ;  the  pas- 
sion was  all  gone  from  his  face,  and  only  the  grief 
remained. 

As  we  stood  leaning  over  the  sleeping  child  the 
little  thing  opened  its:  eyes,  saw  its  father,  and 
smiled.     It  was  too  much  for  him.     The  bic-  man. 

o 
dropped  on  his  knees  with  a  drj-  sob. 

"  Is  there  no  chance  at  all,  at  all  ? "  he  whis- 
pered, but  I  could  give  him  no  hope. 

He  immediately  rose,  and  pulling  himself  to- 
gether stood  perfectly  quiet. 

A  new  terror  seized  upon  the  mother. 

"  My  baby  is  not — what  you  call  it  ?  "  going 
through  the  form  of  baptism.  "  An'  he  will  not 
come  to  la  sainte  Yierge,''^  she  said,  crossing  her- 
self. 

'•  Do  not  fear  for  your  little  one,"  said  Mrs. 
Mavor,  still  with  her  arms  about  her.  "  The  good 
Saviour  will  take  your  darling  into  His  own  arms." 

But  the  mother  would  not  be  comforted  by  this. 
And  Slavin,  too,  was  uneasy. 

"  Where  is  Father  Goulet  ? "  he  asked. 

"Ah!  you  were  not  good  to  t\iQ  holj  pere  diQ 
las'  tam,  Michael,"  she  replied  s-^dly.  "  The  saints 
are  not  please  for  you." 


1 82  Black  Rock. 

""Where  is  the  priest?"  he  demanded. 

"I  know  not  for  sure.  At  de  Landin',  dat's 
lak." 

"  I'll  go  for  him,"  he  said. 

But  his  wife  clung  to  him,  beseeching  him  not 
to  leave  her,  and  indeed  he  was  loath  to  leave  his 
little  one. 

I  found  Craig  and  told  him  the  difficulty. 
With  his  usual  promptness  he  was  ready  with  a 
solution. 

"  Kixon  has  a  team.  He  will  go."  Then  he 
added  :  "  I  wonder  if  they  would  not  like  me  to 
baptize  their  little  one?  Father  Goulet  and  I 
have  exchanged  offices  before  now.  I  remember 
how  he  came  to  one  of  my  people  in  my  absence, 
when  she  was  dying,  read  with  her,  prayed  with 
her,  comforted  her,  and  helped  her  across  the 
river.  He  is  a  good  soul  and  has  no  nonsense 
about  him.  Send  for  me  if  you  think  there  is 
need.  It  will  make  no  difference  to  the  baby, 
but  it  will  comfort  the  mother." 

Nixon  was  willing  enough  to  go,  but  when  he 
came  to  the  door  Mrs.  Mavor  saw  the  hard  look 
in  his  face.  He  had  not  forgotten  his  wrong,  for 
day  by  day  he  was  still  fighting  the  devil  within 
that  Slavin  had  called  to  life.  But  Mrs.  Mavor, 
under  cover  of  getting  him  instructions,  drew  him 
into  the  room.     While  listening  to  her  his  eyes 


Black  Rock.  183 

wandered  from  one  to  the  other  of  the  group  till 
they  rested  upon  the  little  white  face  in  the  crib. 
She  noticed  the  change  in  his  face. 

"They  fear  the  little  one  will  never  see  the 
Saviour  if  it  is  not  baptized,"  she  said  in  a  low 
tone. 

He  was  eager  to  go. 

"  I'll  do  my  best  to  get  the  priest,"  he  said,  and 
was  gone  on  his  sixty  miles'  race  with  death. 

The  long  afternoon  wore  on,  but  before  it  was 
half  ffone  I  saw  Nixon  could  not  win  and  that  the 
priest  would  be  too  late,  so  I  sent  for  Mr.  Craig. 
From  the  moment  he  entered  the  room  he  took 
command  of  us  all.  He  was  so  simple,  so  manly, 
so  tender,  the  hearts  of  the  parents  instinctively 
turned  to  him. 

As  he  was  about  to  proceed  with  the  baptism 
the  mother  whispered  to  Mrs.  Mavor,  who  hesi- 
tatingly asked  Mr.  Craig  if  he  would  object  to  using 
holy  water. 

"  To  me  it  is  the  same  as  any  other,"  he  replied 
gravely. 

"  An'  will  he  make  the  good  sign  ?  "  asked  the 
mother  timidly. 

And  so  the  child  was  baptized  by  the  Presby- 
terian minister  with  holy  water  and  with  the  sign 
of  the  cross.  I  don't  suppose  it  was  orthodox, 
and   it  rendered  chaotic  some  of  my  religious 


184  Black  Rock. 

notions,  but  I  thought  more  of  Craig  that  moment 
than  ever  before.  He  was  more  man  than  min- 
ister, or  perhaps  he  was  so  good  a  minister  that 
day  because  so  much  a  man.  As  he  read  about 
the  Saviour  and  the  children  and  the  disciples 
who  tried  to  get  in  between  them,  and  as  he  told 
us  the  story  in  his  own  simple  and  beautiful  way, 
and  then  went  on  to  picture  the  home  of  the  little 
children  and  the  same  Saviour  in  the  midst  of 
them,  1  felt  my  heart  grow  warm,  and  I  could 
easily  understand  the  cry  of  the  mother  : 

"  Oh,  QTion  JesUyjprenez  moi  aussi — take  me  wiz 
Tnori  mignonP 

The  cry  wakened  Slavin's  heart  and  he  said 
huskily : 

"Oh!  Annette!  Annette  I" 

"  Ah,  oui  !  an'  Michael  too !  '• 

Then  to  Mr.  Craig  : 

"  You  tink  He's  tak  me  some  day  ?    Eh  ?  »* 

"  All  who  love  Him,"  he  replied. 

"  An'  Michael  too  %  "  she  asked,  her  eyes  search- 
ing his  face.     "  An'  Michael  too  ? " 

But  Craig  only  replied  : 

"  All  who  love  Him." 

"  Ah,  Michael,  you  must  pray  le  honJesu.  He's 
garde  notre  tnignon.^^ 

And  then  she  bent  over  the  babe,  whispering : 

"Ah,  mon  ch4rif  mon   amour ^   adieu!  adieu 


Black  Rock.  185 

man  ange !  "  till  Slavin  put  his  arms  about  her 
and  took  her  away,  for  as  she  was  whispering  her 
farewells  her  baby,  with  a  little  answering  sigh, 
passed  into  the  house  with  many  rooms. 

"  Whisht,  Annette  darlin' ;  don't  cry  for  the 
baby,"  said  her  husband.  "  Shure  it's  better  off 
than  the  rest  av  us,  it  is.  An'  didn't  ye  hear 
what  the  minister  said  about  the  beautiful 
place  it  is?  An'  shure  he  wouldn't  lie  to  us 
at  all." 

But  a  mother  cannot  be  comforted  for  her  first- 
born son. 

An  hour  later  Kixon  brought  Father  Goulet. 
He  was  a  little  Frenchman  with  gentle  manners 
and  the  face  of  a  saint.  Craig  welcomed  him 
warmly  and  told  him  what  he  had  done. 

"  That  is  good,  my  brother,"  he  said  with 
gentle  courtesy,  and  turning  to  the  mother: 
"  Your  little  one  is  safe." 

Behind  Father  Goulet  came  Nixon  softly  and 
gazed  down  upon  the  little  quiet  face,  beautiful 
with  the  magic  of  death.  Slavin  came  quietly 
and  stood  beside  him.  Nixon  turned  and  offered 
his  hand.     But  Slavin  said,  moving  slowly  back  : 

"  I  did  ye  a  wrong,  Nixon,  an'  it's  a  sorry  man 
I  am  this  day  for  it." 

"  Don't  say  a  word,  Slavin,"  answered  Nixon 
hurriedly.    ^'  I  know  how  you  feel.    I've  got  c. 


i86  Black  Rock. 

baby,  too.  I  want  to  see  it  again.  That's  why 
the  break  hurt  me  so." 

"As  God's  above,"  replied  Slavin  earnestly, 
"  I'll  hinder  ye  no  more." 

They  shook  hands  and  we  passed  out. 

We  laid  the  baby  under  the  pines,  not  far  from 
Billy  Breen,  and  the  sweet  spring  wind  blew 
through  the  gap  and  came  softly  down  the  valle}', 
whispering  to  the  pines  and  the  grass  and  the 
hiding  flowers  of  the  new  life  coming  to  the 
world.  And  the  mother  must  have  heard  the 
whisper  in  her  heart,  for  as  the  priest  was  saying 
the  words  of  the  service,  she  stood  with  Mrs. 
Mavor's  arms  about  her,  and  her  eyes  were  looking 
far  away  beyond  the  purple  mountain  tops,  see- 
ing what  made  her  smile.  And  Slavin,  too, 
looked  different.  His  very  features  seemed  finer. 
The  coarseness  was  gone  out  of  his  face.  What 
had  come  to  him  I  could  not  tell. 

But  when  the  doctor  came  into  Slavin's  house 
that  night  it  was  the  old  Slavin  I  saw,  but  with  a 
look  of  such  deadly  fury  on  his  face  that  I  tried 
to  get  the  doctor  out  at  once.  But  he  was  half 
drunk  and  after  his  manner  was  hideously  humor- 
ous. 

"  How  do,  ladies !  How  do,  gentlemen  !  "  was 
his  loud-voiced  salutation.  "  Quite  a  profession  aj 
gathering,    clergy    predominating.      Lion     and 


Black  Rock.  187 

lamb,  too.  Ha!  ha!  Which  is  the  lamb,  ehl 
Ila!  ha!  ha!  Very  good!  Awfully  sorry  to 
hear  of  your  loss,  Mrs.  Slavin.  Did  our  best, 
you  know.     Can't  help  this  sort  of  thing." 

Before  any  one  could  move  Craig  was  at  his 
side,  and  saying  in  a  clear,  firm  voice,  "  One  mo- 
ment, doctor,"  caught  him  by  the  arm  and  had 
him  out  of  the  room  before  he  knew  it,  Slavin, 
who  had  been  crouching  in  his  chair  with  hands 
twitching  and  eyes  glaring,  rose  and  followed, 
still  crouching  as  he  walked.  I  hurried  after 
him,  calling  him  back.  Turning  at  my  voice,  the 
doctor  saw  Slavin  approaching.  There  was 
something  so  terrifying  in  his  swift,  noiseless, 
crouching  motion  that  the  doctor,  crying  out  in 
fear,  "  Keep  him  off ! "  fairly  turned  and  fled. 
He  was  too  late.  Like  a  tiger  Slavin  leaped  upon 
him,  and  without  waiting  to  strike  had  him  by 
the  throat  with  both  hands,  and  bearing  him  to 
the  ground,  worried  him  there  as  a  dog  might  a 
cat. 

Immediately  Craig  and  I  were  upon  him,  but 
though  we  lifted  him  clear  off  the  ground  we 
could  not  loosen  that  two-handed  strangling  grip. 
As  we  were  struggling  there  a  light  hand  touched 
my  shoulder.     It  was  Father  Goulet. 

"  Please  let  him  go  and  stand  away  from  us,"  he 
said,  waving  us  back. 


1 88  Black  Rock. 

We  obeyed.  He  leaned  over  Slavin  and  spoke 
a  few  words  to  him.  Slavin  started  as  if  struck  a 
heavy  blow,  looked  up  at  the  priest  with  fear  in 
his  face,  but  still  keeping  his  grip. 

"  Let  him  go,"  said  the  priest.  Slavin  hesitated. 
"  Let  him  go !  quick  !  "  said  the  priest  again,  and 
Slavin  with  a  snarl  let  go  his  hold  and  stood  sul- 
lenly facing  the  priest. 

Father  Goulet  regarded  him  steadily  for  some 
seconds  and  then  asked  : 

"  What  would  you  do  ? ''  His  voice  was  gentle 
enough,  even  sweet,  but  there  was  something  in 
it  that  chilled  my  marrow.  "  What  would  you 
do  ?  "  he  repeated. 

"  He  murdered  my  child,"  growled  Slavin. 

«  Ah !     How  ? " 

*'  He  was  drunk  and  poisoned  him." 

"  Ah !  Who  gave  him  drink  ?  Who  made  him 
a  drunkard  two  years  ago?  Who  has  wrecked 
his  life?" 

There  was  no  answer,  and  the  even-toned  voice 
went  relentlessly  on : 

"  Who  is  the  murderer  of  your  child  now  ?  " 

Slavin  groaned  and  shuddered. 

"  Go ! "  and  the  voice  grew  stern.  "  Repent  of 
your  sin  and  add  not  another." 

Slavin  turned  his  eyes  upon  the  motionless 
figure  on  the  ground  and  then  upon  the  priest. 


Black  Rock.  189 

Father  Goulet  took  one  step  toward  him  and, 
stretching  out  his  hand  and  pointing  with  his 
finger,  said  : 

"Go!" 

And  Slavin  slowly  backed  away  and  went  into 
his  house.  It  was  an  extraordinary  scene,  and  it 
is  often  with  me  now  ;  the  dark  figure  on  the 
ground,  the  slight,  erect  form  of  the  priest  wdth 
outstretched  arm  and  finger,  and  Slavin  backing 
away,  fear  and  fury  struggling  in  his  face. 

It  was  a  near  thing  for  the  doctor,  however, 
and  two  minutes  more  of  that  grip  would  have 
done  for  him.  As  it  was,  we  had  the  greatest 
dilficulty  in  reviving  him. 

"What  the  priest  did  with  Slavin  after  getting 
him  inside  I  know  not ;  that  has  always  been  a 
mystery  to  rae.  But  w^hen  we  were  passing  the 
saloon  that  night  after  taking  Mrs.  Mavor  home 
we  saw  a  light  and  heard  strange  sounds  within. 
Entering,  we  found  another  whisky  raid  in  prog- 
ress, Slavin  himself  being  the  raider.  We  stood 
some  moments  watching  him  knocking  in  the 
heads  of  casks  and  emptying  bottles.  I  thought 
he  had  gone  mad  and  approached  him  cautiously. 

"  Hello,  Slavin  !  "  I  called  out.  "  What  does 
this  mean  ? " 

He  paused  in  his  strange  work,  and  I  saw  that 
his  face,  though  resolute,  was  quiet  enough. 


190  Black  Rock. 

"  It  means  I'm  clone  wid  the  business,  I  am," 
he  said  in  a  determined  voice.  "  I'll  help  no 
more  to  kill  anny  man  or,"  in  a  lower  tone,  "  anny 
man's  baby." 

The  priest's  words  had  struck  home. 

"Thank  God,  Slavin!"  said  Craig,  offering 
his  hand.  "  You  are  much  too  good  a  man  for  the 
business. " 

"  Good  or  bad,  I'm  done  wid  it,"  he  replied, 
going  on  with  his  work. 

"  You  are  throwing  away  good  money,  Slavin," 
I  said  as  the  head  of  a  cask  crashed  in. 

"  It's  meself  that  knows  it,  for  the  price  of 
whisky  has  riz  in  town  this  week,"  he  answered, 
giving  me  a  look  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye. 
"  Bedad !  it  was  a  rare  clever  job,"  referring 
to  our  Black  Rock  Hotel  affair. 

"  But  won't  you  be  sorry  for  this  ? "  asked 
Craig. 

"  Beloike  I  will ;  an*  that's  why  I'm  doin'  it  be- 
fore I'm  sorry  for  it,"  he  replied,  with  a  delightful 
bull. 

"  Look  here,  Slavin,"  said  Craig  earnestly,  "  if 
I  can  be  of  use  to  you  in  any  way,  count  on  me." 

"  It's  good  to  me  the  both  of  yezhave  been,  an' 
I'll  not  forget  it  toyez,"  he  replied  with  like  ear- 
nestness. 

As  we  told  Mrs.  Mavor  that  night — for  Craig 


Black  Rock.  191 

thought  it  too  good  to  keep — her  eyes  seemed  to 
grow  deeper  and  the  light  in  them  to  glow  more 
intense  as  she  listened  to  Craig  pouring  out  his 
tale.    Then  she  gave  him  her  hand  and  said : 

"  You  have  your  man  at  last." 

«  What  man  ? " 

"  The  man  you  have  been  waiting  for." 

"Slavin?" 

"Why  not?" 

"  I  never  thought  of  it." 

"  No  more  did  he,  nor  any  of  us."  Then,  after 
a  pause,  she  added  gently  :  "  He  has  been  sent 
to  us." 

"  Do  you  know,  I  believe  you  are  right  ?  "  Craig 
said  slowly,  and  then  added  :  "  But  you  always 
are." 

"  I  fear  not,"  she  answered  ;  but  I  thought  she 
liked  to  hear  his  words. 

The  whole  town  was  astounded  next  morning 
when  Slavin  went  to  work  in  the  mines,  and  its 
astonishment  only  deepened  as  the  days  went  on 
and  he  stuck  to  his  work.  Before  three  weeks 
had  gone  the  league  had  bought  and  remodeled 
the  saloon  and  had  secured  Slavin  as  resident 
manager. 

The  evening  of  the  reopening  of  Slavin's  saloon, 
as  it  was  still  called,  was  long  remembered  in 
Black  Rock.     It  was  the  occasion  of   the  first 


192  Black  Rock. 

ajipearance  of  tbe  League  Minstrel  and  Dramatic 
Troupe  in  what  was  described  as  a  "  hair-lifting 
tragedy  with  appropriate  musical  selections." 

Then  there  was  a  grand  supper  and  speeches 
and  great  enthusiasm,  which  reached  its  climax 
when  Nixon  rose  to  propose  the  toast  of  the  eve- 
ning— "  Our  saloon."  His  speech  was  simply  a 
quiet,  manly  account  of  his  long  struggle  with  the 
deadly  enemy.  When  he  came  to  speak  of  his 
recent  defeat  he  said : 

"  And  while  I  am  blading  no  one  but  myself,  I 
am  glad  to-night  that  this  saloon  is  on  our  side, 
for  my  own  sake  and  for  the  sake  of  those  who 
have  been  waiting  long  to  see  me.  But  before 
I  sit  down  I  want  to  say  that  while  I  live  I  shall 
not  forget  that  I  owe  my  life  to  the  man  that 
took  me  that  night  to  his  own  shack  and  put  me 
in  his  own  bed,  and  met  me  the  next  morning 
with  an  open  hand  ;  for  I  tell  you  I  had  sworn  to 
God  that  that  morning  would  be  my  last." 

Geordie's  speech  was  characteristic.  After  a 
brief  reference  to  the  "  mysteerious  ways  o'  Prov^- 
idence,"  which  be  acknowledged  he  might  some- 
times fail  to  understand,  he  went  on  to  express 
his  unqualified  approval  of  the  new  saloon. 

"  It's  a  cozy  place,  an'  there's  nae  sulphur  aboot. 
Besides  a'  that,"  he  went  on  enthusiasticallyj 
"  it'll  be  a  terrible  savin'.    I' ve  juist  been  coontin'.** 


Black  Rock.  193 

"  You  bet  1 "  ejaculated  a  voice  with  great  eni' 
phasis. 

"  I've  juist  been  coontin',"  went  on  Geordie,  ig- 
noring the  remark  and  the  laugh  which  followed, 
"  an'  it's  an  awfu'-like  money  ye  pit  ower  wi'  the 
whusky.  Ye  can  see,  ye  canna  dae  wi'  ane  bit 
glass  ;  ye  maun  hae  twa  or  three  at  the  verra  least, 
for  it's  no'  verra  forrit  ye  get  wi'  ane  glass.  But 
wi'  yon  coffee  ye  juist  get  a  saxpence  worth  an'  ve 
want  nae  mair." 

There  was  another  shout  of  laughter,  which 
puzzled  Geordie  much. 

"  I  dinna  see  the  jowk,  but  I've  slippit  ower  in 
whusky  mair  nor  a  hunner  dollars." 

Then  he  paused,  looking  hard  before  him  and 
twisting  his  face  into  extraordinary  shapes  till 
the  men  looked  at  him  in  wonder. 

"  I'm  rale  glad  o'  this  saloon,  but  it's  ower  late 
for  the  lad  that  canna  be  helpit  the  noo.  He'll 
not  be  needin'  help  o'  oors,  I  doot,  but  there  are 
ithers  " — and  he  stopped  abruptly  and  sat  down, 
with  no  a])plause  following. 

But  when  Slavin,  our  saloon-keeper,  rose  to 
reply,  the  men  jumped  up  on  the  seats  and  yelled 
till  they  could  yell  no  more.  Slavin  stood,  evi- 
dently  in  trouble  with  himself,  and  finally  broke 
out : 

"  It's  spacheless  1  am  entirely.  "What's  come 
»3 


194  Black  Rock. 

to  me  I  know  not,  nor  how  it's  come.     But  I'll  do 
my  best  for  yez." 

And  then  the  yelling  broke  out  again, 
I  did  not  yell  myself.  I  was  too  busy  watch- 
ing the  varying  lights  in  Mrs.  Mavor's  eyes  as  she 
looked  from  Craig  to  the  yelling  men  on  the 
benches  and  tables  and  then  to  Slavin,  and  I  found 
myself  wondering  if  she  knew  what  it  was  that 
came  to  Slavin. 


Black  Rock.  195 


CHAPTEK  XI. 

THE    TWO    CALLS, 

With  the  call  to  Mr.  Craig  I  fancy  I  had  some- 
thing to  do  myself.  The  call  came  from  a  young 
congregation  in  an  Eastern  city,  and  was  based 
partly  upon  his  college  record  and  more  upon  the 
advice  of  those  among  the  authorities  who  knew 
his  work  in  the  mountains.  But  I  flatter  myself, 
that  my  letters  to  friends  who  were  of  importance 
in  that  congregation  were  not  without  influence, 
for  I  was  of  the  mind  that  the  man  who  could 
handle  Black  Rock  miners  as  he  could  was  ready 
for  something  larger  than  a  mountain  mission. 
That  he  would  refuse  I  had  not  imagined,  though 
I  ought  to  have  known  him  better.  He  was  but 
little  troubled  over  it.  He  went  with  the  call  and 
the  letters  urging  his  acceptance  to  Mrs.  Mavor. 
1  was  putting  the  last  touches  to  some  of  my 
work  in  the  room  at  the  back  of  Mrs.  Mavor's 
house  when  he  came  in.  She  read  the  letters  and 
the  call  quietly  and  waited  for  him  to  speak. 

♦*  Well  ?  "  he  said.     "  Should  I  go  ?  " 


iq6  Black  Rock, 

She  started  and  grew  a  little  pale.  His  ques. 
tion  suggested  a  possibility  that  had  not  occurred 
to  her.  That  he  could  leave  his  work  in  Black 
Kock  she  had  hitherto  never  imagined  ;  but  there 
was  other  work,  and  he  was  fit  for  good  work 
anywhere.  "Why  should  he  not  go  ?  I  saw  the 
fear  in  her  face,  but  I  saw  more  than  fear  in  her 
eyes  as  for  a  moment  or  two  she  let  them  rest 
upon  Craig's  face.  I  read  her  story,  and  I  was 
not  sorry  for  either  of  them.  But  she  was  too 
much  of  a  woman  to  show  her  heart  easily  to  the 
man  she  loved,  and  her  voice  was  even  and  calm 
as  she  answered  his  question. 

"  Is  this  a  very  large  congregation  ? " 

"  One  of  the  finest  in  all  the  East,"  I  put  in  for 
him.     "  It  will  be  a  great  thing  for  Craig." 

Craig  was  studying  her  curiously.  I  think  she 
noticed  his  eyes  upon  her,  for  she  went  on  even 
more  quietly : 

"  It  will  be  a  great  chance  for  work,  and  you 
are  able  for  a  larger  sphere,  you  know,  than  poor 
Black  Rock  affords." 

«  Who  will  take  Black  Rock  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Let  some  other  fellow  have  a  try  at  it,"  I 
said.  "  Why  should  you  waste  your  talents 
here  ? " 

"  Waste  ?  "  cried  Mrs.  Mavor  indignantly. 

"  Well,  *  bury/  if  you  like  it  better,"  I  replied 


Black  Rock.  197 

"  It  would  not  take  much  of  a  grave  for  that 
funeral,"  said  Craig,  smiling. 

"  Oh,"  said  Mrs.  Mavor,  "  you  will  be  a  great 
man,  I  know,  and  perhaps  you  ought  to  go  now." 

But  he  answered  coolly  : 

"There  are  fifty  men  wanting  that  Eastern 
charge  and  there  is  only  one  wanting  Black  Rock, 
and  I  don't  think  Black  Rock  is  anxious  for  a 
change,  so  I  have  determined  to  stay  where  I  am 
yet  awhile." 

Even  my  deep  disgust  and  disappointment  did 
not  prevent  me  from  seeing  the  sudden  leap  of  joy 
in  Mrs.  Mavor's  eyes,  but  she,  with  a  great  effort, 
answered  quietly  : 

"  Black  Rock  will  be  very  glad,  and  some  of  us 
very,  very  glad." 

Nothing  could  change  his  mind.  There  was  no 
one  he  knew  who  could  take  his  place  just  now, 
and  why  should  he  quit  his  work  ?  It  annoyed  me 
considerably  to  feel  he  was  right.  Why  is  it  that 
the  right  things  are  so  frequently  unpleasant  ? 

And  if  I  had  had  any  doubt  about  the  matter, 
next  Sabbath  evening  would  have  removed  it. 
For  the  men  came  about  him  after  the  service  and 
let  him  feel  in  their  way  how  much  they  approved 
his  decision,  though  the  self-sacrifice  involved 
did  not  appeal  to  them.  They  were  too  truly 
Western  to  imagine  that  any  inducements  the 


198  Black  Rock. 

East  could  offer  could  compensate  for  his  loss  of 
tlie  "West.  It  was  only  fitting  tliat  the  West 
should  have  the  best,  and  so  the  miners  took 
almost  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  certainly  as 
their  right,  that  the  best  man  they  knew  should 
stay  with  them.  But  there  were  those  who  knew 
how  much  of  what  most  men  consider  worth 
while  he  had  given  up,  and  they  loved  him  no 
less  for  it. 

Mrs.  Mavor's  call  was  not  so  easily  disposed 
of.  It  camo  close  upon  the  other,  and  stirred 
Black  Rock  as  nothing  else  had  ever  stirred  it 
before. 

I  found  her  one  afternoon  gazing  vacantly  at 
some  legal  documents  spread  out  before  her  on 
the  table,  and  evidently  overcome  by  their  con- 
tents. There  was  first  a  lawyer's  letter  inform- 
ing her  that  by  the  death  of  her  husband's  father 
she  had  come  into  the  whole  of  the  Mavor  estates 
and  all  the  wealth  pertaining  thereto.  The  letter 
asked  for  instructions,  and  urged  an  immediate 
return  with  a  view  to  a  personal  superintendence 
of  the  estates.  A  letter,  too,  from  a  distant 
cousin  of  her  husband  urg-ed  her  immediate  return 
for  many  reasons,  but  chiefly  on  account  of  the 
old  mother  who  had  been  left  alone,  with  none 
nearer  of  kin  than  himself  to  care  for  her  and 
cheer  her  old  asre. 


Black  Rock.  I9'> 

"With  these  two  came  another  letter  from  her 
mother-in-law  herself.  The  crabbed,  trembling 
characters  were  even  more  eloquent  than  the 
■words  with  which  the  letter  closed. 

"  I  have  lost  my  boy,  and  now  my  husband  is 
gone,  and  I  ain  a  lonely  woman.  I  have  many 
servants  and  some  friends,  but  none  nearer  to  me, 
none  so  near  and  dear  as  my  dead  son's  wife. 
My  days  are  not  to  be  many.  Come  to  me,  my 
daughter.     I  want  you  and  Lewis'  child." 

"  Must  I  go  ?  "  she  asked  with  white  lips. 

"  Do  you  know  her  well?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  only  saw  her  once  or  twice,"  she  answered, 
"  but  she  has  been  very  good  to  me." 

"  She  can  hardly  need  you.  She  has  friends. 
And  surely  you  are  needed  here." 

She  looked  at  me  eagerly. 

"  Do  you  think  so  ? "  she  said. 

"  Ask  any  man  in  the  camp — Shaw,  Nixon, 
young  "Winton,  Geordie.     Ask  Craig,"  I  replied. 

"Yes,  he  will  tell  me,"  she  said. 

Even  as  she  spoke  Craig  came  up  the  steps.  1 
passed  into  my  studio  and  went  on  with  my 
work,  for  my  days  at  Black  Rock  were  getting 
few  and  many  sketches  remained  to  be  filled  in. 

Through  my  open  door  I  saw  Mrs.  Mavor  lay 
her  letters  before  Mr.  Craig,  saying,  "  1  have  a 
call,  too."    They  thought  not  of  me. 


200  Black  Rock. 

lie  went  through  the  papers,  carefully  laid 
them  down  without  a  word  while  she  waited  anx- 
iously, almost  impatiently,  for  him  to  speak. 

"  Well  ? "  she  asked,  using  his  own  words  to 
her.     "  Should  I  go  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  he  replied.  "  That  is  for  you 
to  decide — you  know  all  the  circumstances." 

"  The  letters  tell  all." 

Her  tone  carried  a  feeling  of  disappointment. 
He  did  not  appear  to  care. 

"  The  estates  are  large  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  large  enough — twelve  thousand  a  year." 

"And  has  your  mother-in-law  any  one  with 
her?" 

"  She  has  friends,  but,  as  she  says,  none  near  of 
kin.  Her  nephew  looks  after  the  works — iron 
works,  you  know.     He  has  shares  in  them." 

"  She  is  evidently  very  lonely,"  he  answered 
gravely. 

"  What  shall  I  do  ? "  she  asked,  and  I  knew 
she  was  waiting  to  hear  him  urge  her  to  stay  ; 
but  he  did  not  see,  or  at  least  gave  no  heed. 

"  I  cannot  say,"  he  repeated  quietly.  "  There 
are  many  things  to  consider.     The  estates " 

"  The  estates  seem  to  trouble  you,"  she  replied 
almost  fretfully. 

He  looked  up  in  surprise.  I  wondered  at  his 
slowness. 


Black  Rock.  201 

«  Yes,  the  estates,"  he  went  on,  "  and  tenants, 
I  suppose — your  mother-in-law  ;  your  little  Mar- 
jorie's  future,  your  own  future." 

"  The  estates  are  in  capable  hands,  I  should  sup- 
pose," she  urged,  "  and  my  future  depends  upon 
what  I  choose  my  work  to  be." 

"  But  one  cannot  shift  one's  responsibilities," 
he  replied  gravely.  "  These  estates,  these  tenants, 
have  come  to  you,  and  with  them  come  duties." 

"  I  do  not  want  them,"  she  cried. 

"  That  life  has  great  possibilities  of  good,"  he 
said  kindly. 

"  I  had  thought  that  perhaps  there  was  work 
for  me  here,"  she  suggested  timidly. 

"Great  work,"  he  hastened  to  say.  "You 
have  done  great  work.  But  you  will  do  that 
wherever  you  go.  The  only  question  is  where 
your  work  lies." 

"  You  think  I  should  go,"  she  said  suddenly  and 
a  little  bitterly. 

"  I  cannot  bid  you  stay,"  he  answered  steadily. 

"  How  can  I  go  ?  "  she  cried,  appealing  to  him. 
«  Must  I  go  ? " 

Ho^v  he  could  resist  that  appeal  I  could  not 
understand.  His  face  was  cold  and  hard,  and 
his  voice  was  almost  harsh  as  he  replied  : 

"  If  it  is  right,  you  will  go — ^you  must  go." 

Then  she  burst  forth  : 


202  Black  Rock. 

**  I  cannot  go.  I  shall  stay  here.  My  work  13 
here :  my  heart  is  here.  How  can  I  go  ?  You 
thought  it  worth  your  while  to  stay  here  and 
work.     Why  should  not  I  ? " 

The  momentary  gleam  in  his  eyes  died  out,  and 
again  he  said  coldly : 

"  This  work  was  clearly  mine.  I  am  needed 
here." 

"  Yes !  yes ! "  she  cried,  her  voice  full  of  pain. 
"  You  are  needed,  but  there  is  no  need  of  me." 

"  Stop !  stop ! "  he  said  sharply.  "  You  must 
not  say  so." 

"  I  will  say  it !  I  must  say  it !  "  she  cried,  her 
voice  vibrating  with  the  intensity  of  her  feelings. 
"  I  know  you  do  not  need  me.  You  have  your 
work,  your  miners,  your  plans  ;  you  need  no  one ; 
you  are  strong.  But,"  and  her  voice  rose  to  a 
cry,  "  I  am  not  strong  by  myself ;  you  have  made 
me  strong.  I  came  here  a  foolish  girl,  foolish 
and  selfish  and  narrow.  God  sent  me  grief. 
Three  years  ago  my  heart  died.  Kow  I  am  liv- 
ing again.  I  am  a  woman  now,  no  longer  a  girl. 
You  have  done  this  for  me.  Your  life,  your 
words,  yourself — you  have  shown  me  a  better,  a 
higher  life  than  I  had  ever  known  before,  and  now 
you  send  me  away." 

She  paused  abruptly. 

"  Blind,  stupid  fool ! "  I  said  to  myself. 


Black  Rock.  203 

He  held  himself  resolutely  in  hand,  answering 
carefulh%  but  his  voice  had  lost  its  coldness  and 
was  sweet  and  kind. 

"  Have  I  done  this  for  you  ?  Then  surely  God 
has  been  good  to  me.  And  you  have  helped  me 
more  than  any  words  could  tell  3''ou." 

"  Helped  !  "  she  repeated  scornfully. 

"  Yes,  helped,"  he  answered,  wondering  at  her 
scorn. 

"  You  can  do  without  my  help,"  she  went  on. 
*'  You  make  people  help  you.  You  will  get  many 
to  help  you  ;  but  I  need  help,  too." 

She  was  standing  before  him  with  her  hands 
tightly  clasped ;  her  face  was  pale  and  her  eyes 
deeper  than  ever.  He  sat  looking  up  at  her  in  a 
kind  of  maze  as  she  poured  out  her  words  hot  and 
fast. 

"  I  am  not  thinking  of  you."  His  coldness  had 
hurt  her  deeply.  "  I  am  selfish  ;  I  am  thinking 
of  myself.  How  shall  1  do?  1  have  grown  to 
depend  on  you,  to  look  to  you.  It  is  nothing  to 
you  that  I  go,  but  to  me " 

She  did  not  dare  to  finish. 

By  this  time  Craig  was  standing  before  her, 
bis  face  deadly  pale.  When  she  came  to  the  end 
of  her  words  he  said  in  a  voice  low,  sweet,  and 
thrilling  with  emotion : 

"  Ah,  if  you  only  knew  i    Do  not  make  me 


204  Black  Rock. 

forget  myself.  You  do  not  guess  what  you  are 
doing." 

"  What  am  I  doing  ?  "What  is  there  to  know 
but  that  you  tell  me  easily  to  go  ? " 

She  was  struggling  with  the  tears  she  was  too 
proud  to  let  him  see. 

He  put  his  hands  resolutely  behind  him,  look- 
ing at  her  as  if  studying  her  face  for  the  first  time. 
Under  his  searching  look  she  dropped  her  eyes 
and  the  warm  color  came  slowly  up  into  her  neck 
and  face ;  then,  as  if  with  a  sudden  resolve,  she 
lifted  her  eyes  to  his  and  looked  back  at  him 
unflinchingly. 

He  started,  surprised,  dr«w  slowly  near,  and 
put  his  hands  upon  her  shoulders,  surprise  giving 
place  to  wild  joy.  She  never  moved  her  eyes ; 
they  drew  him  toward  her.  He  took  her  face 
between  his  hands,  smiled  into  her  eyes,  kissed 
her  lips.  She  did  not  move ;  he  stood  back  from 
her,  threw  up  his  head,  and  laughed  aloud.  She 
came  to  him,  put  her  head  upon  his  breast,  and, 
lifting  up  her  face  said  :  "  Kiss  me."  He  put  his 
arms  about  her,  bent  down  and  kissed  her  lips 
again,  and  then  reverently  her  brow.  Then  put- 
ting her  back  from  him,  but  still  holding  both 
her  hands,  he  cried : 

"  No !  you  shall  not  go.  I  shall  never  let  you 
go.** 


I 


**  No!  you  shall  not  go.     I  shall  never  let  you  go."     Page  204. 

—Black  Rock. 


Black  Rock.  205 

She  gave  a  little  sigh  of  content,  and,  smiling 
up  at  hira,  said  : 

"  I  can  go  now,"  but  even  as  she  spoke  the  flush 
died  from  her  face  and  she  shuddered. 

"  Never  !  "  he  almost  shouted  ;  "  nothing  shall 
take  you  away.     We  shall  work  here  together." 

"  Ah,  if  we  could,  if  we  only  could,"  she  said 
piteously. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  he  demanded  fiercely. 

"  You  will  send  me  away.  You  will  say  it  is 
right  for  me  to  go,"  she  replied  sadly. 

"  Do  we  not  love  each  other  ? "  was  his  impa- 
tient answer. 

"  Ah !  yes,  love,"  she  said,  "  but  love  is  not 
all." 

"  No  !  "  cried  Craig  ;  "  but  love  is  the  best." 

''  Yes  !  "  she  said  sadly  ;  "  love  is  the  best,  and 
it  is  for  love's  sake  we  will  do  the  best," 

"  There  is  no  better  work  than  here.  Surely 
this  is  best,"  and  he  pictured  his  plans  before  her. 
She  listened  eagerly. 

"  Oh  !  if  it  should  be  right,"  she  cried,  "I  will 
do  what  you  say.  You  are  good,  you  are  wise. 
You  shall  tell  me." 

She  could  not  have  recalled  him  better.  He 
stood  silent  some  moments,  then  burst  out  pas- 
sionately : 

<='  Why,  then,  has  love  come  to  ns  ?    We  did 


2o6  Black  Rock. 

not  seek  it.  Surely  love  is  of  God.  Does  God 
mock  us  ? " 

He  threw  himself  into  his  chair,  pouring  out  his 
words  of  passionate  protestation.  She  listened, 
smiling,  then  came  to  him,  and,  touching  his  hair 
as  a  mother  might  her  child's,  said  : 

"  Oh,  I  am  very  happy  I  I  was  afraid  you 
would  not  care,  and  I  could  not  bear  to  go  that 
way." 

"  You  shall  not  go,"  he  cried  aloud,  as  if  in 
pain.     "  Xothing  can  make  that  right." 

But  she  only  said  : 

"  You  shall  tell  me  to-morrow.  You  cannot 
see  to-night,  but  you  will  see,  and  you  will  tell 
me." 

He  stood  up  and,  holding  both  her  hands, 
looked  long  into  her  eyes,  then  turned  abruptly 
away  and  went  out. 

She  stood  where  he  left  her  for  some  moments, 
her  face  radiant  and  her  hands  pressed  upon  her 
heart.  Then  she  came  toward  my  room.  She 
found  me  busy  with  my  painting,  but  as  I  looked 
lip  and  met  her  eyes  she  flushed  slightly  and  said : 

"  I  quite  forgot  you." 

"  So  it  appeared  to  me." 

«  You  heard  ? " 

"  And  saw,"  I  replied  boldly.  "  It  would  have 
been  rude  to  interrupt,  you  see." 


Black  Rock.  207 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  and  thankful." 

"  Yes.     It  was  rather  considerate  of  me." 

*'  Oh,  I  don't  mean  that,"  the  flush  deepening. 
"  I  am  glad  you  know." 

"  I  have  known  some  time." 

''  How  could  you  ?  I  only  knew  to-day  my- 
self." 

"  I  have  eyes." 

She  flushed  again. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  people "  she  began  anx- 

iously.  ' 

"  No.  I  am  not '  people.'  1  have  eyes,  and  my 
eyes  have  been  opened." 

"  Opened  ?  " 

"  Yes,  by  love.'* 

Then  I  told  her  openly  how,  weeks  ago,  T  strug- 
gled  with  my  heart  and  mastered  it,  for  I  saw  it 
was  vain  to  love  her,  because  she  loved  a  better 
man  who  loved  her  in  return.  She  looked  at  me 
shyly  and  said : 

"  I  am  sorry." 

"  Don't  worry,"  I  said  cheerfully.  "I  didn't 
break  my  heart,  you  know.     I  stopped  it  in  time." 

"  Oh  !  "  she  said,  slightly  disappointed  ;  then 
her  lips  began  to  twitch,  and  she  went  off  into  a 
fit  of  hysterical  laughter. 

"Forgive  me,"  she  said  humbly;  "but  you 
speak  as  if  it  had  been  a  fever." 


2o8  Black  Rock. 

"  Fever  is  nothing  to  it,"  I  said  solemnly.  "  It 
was  a  near  thing." 

At  which  she  went  off  again.  1  was  glad  to 
see  her  laugh.  It  gave  me  time  to  recover  my 
equilibrium  and  it  relieved  her  intense  emotional 
strain.  So  I  rattled  on  some  nonsense  about 
Craig  and  myself  till  I  saw  she  was  giving  no 
heed,  but  thinking  her  own  thoughts  ;  and  what 
these  were  it  was  not  hard  to  guess. 

Suddenly  she  broke  in  ujDon  my  talk : 

"He  will  tell  me  that  I  must  go  from 
him." 

"  I  hope  he  is  no  such  fool,"  I  said  emphatically 
and  somewhat  rudely,  I  fear  ;  for  I  confess  I  was 
impatient  w^ith  the  very  possibility  of  separation 
for  these  two,  to  whom  love  meant  so  much. 
Some  people  take  this  sort  of  thing  easily  and 
some  not  so  easily  ;  but  love  for  a  woman  like 
this  comes  once  only  to  a  man,  and  then  he  carries 
it  with  him  through  the  length  of  his  life  and 
warms  his  heart  with  it  in  death.  And  when  a 
man  smiles  or  sneers  at  such  love  as  this,  I  pity 
him  and  say  no  word,  for  my  speech  would  be  in 
an  unknown  tongue.  So  my  heart  was  sore  as  I 
sat  looking  up  at  this  woman  who  stood  before 
me,  overflowing  with  the  joy  of  her  new  love  and 
dully  conscious  of  the  coming  pain.  But  I  soon 
found  it  was  vain  to  urge  my  opinion  that  sha 


Black  Rock.  209 

should  remain  and  share  the  work  and  life  of  the 
man  she  loved.     She  only  answered  : 

"  You  will  help  him  all  you  can,  for  it  will  hurt 
him  to  have  me  go." 

The  quiver  in  her  voice  took  out  all  the  anger 
from  my  heart,  and  before  I  knew  I  had  pledged 
myself  to  do  all  I  could  to  help  him. 

But  when  I  came  upon  him  that  night,  sitting 
in  the  light  of  his  fire,  I  saw  he  must  be  let  alone. 
Some  battles  we  fight  side  by  side,  with  comrades 
cheering  us  and  being  cheered  to  victory  ;  but 
there  are  fights  we  may  not  share,  and  these  are 
deadly  fights  where  lives  are  lost  and  won.  So  I 
could  only  lay  my  hand  upon  his  shoulder  with- 
out a  word.  He  looked  up  quickly,  read  my  face, 
and  said  with  a  groan  : 

«  You  know  ?  " 

"  I  could  not  help  it.     But  why  groan  ?  " 

"  She  will  think  it  right  to  go,"  he  said  despair- 
ingly. 

"  Then  you  must  think  for  her.  You  must 
bring  some  common  sense  to  bear  upon  the 
question." 

"  I  cannot  see  clearly  yet,"  he  said.  "  The 
light  will  come." 

"  May  I  show  you  how  to  see  it  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Go  on,"  he  said. 

For  an  hour  1  talked,  eloquently,  even  veh^ 
14 


210  Black  Rock. 

mently  urging  the  reason  and  right  of  my  opinion. 
She  would  be  doing  no  more  than  every  woman 
does,  no  more  than  she  did  before  ;  her  mother- 
in-law  had  a  comfortable  home,  all  that  wealth 
could  procure,  good  servants,  and  friends  ;  the 
estates  could  be  managed  without  her  personal 
supervision ;  after  a  few  years'  work  here  they 
would  go  East  for  little  Marjorie's  education ;  why 
should  two  lives  be  broken  ? — and  so  I  went  on. 

He  listened  carefully,  even  eagerly. 

"  You  make  a  good  case,"  he  said  with  a  slight 
smile.  "  I  will  take  time.  Perhaps  you  are 
right.  The  light  will  come.  Surely  it  will  come. 
But,"  and  here  he  sprang  up  and  stretched  his  arms 
to  full  length  above  his  head,  "  I  am  not  sorry  ; 
whatever  comes  I  am  not  sorry.  It  is  great  to  have 
her  love,  but  greater  to  love  her  as  I  do.  Thank 
God  !  nothing  can  take  that  away.  I  am  willing, 
glad  to  suffer  for  the  joy  of  loving  her." 

i^ext  morning,  before  I  was  awake,  he  was 
gone,  leaving  a  note  for  me  : 

'*  My  Dear  Connor  : 

"  I  am  due  at  the  Landing.  When  I  see  you 
again  I  think  my  way  will  be  clear.  Kow  all  is 
dark.  At  times  I  ara  a  coward,  and  often,  as  you 
sometimes  kindly  inform  me,  an  ass  ;  but  I  hope 
I  may  never  become  a  mule. 

"  I  am  willing  to  be  led,  or  want  to  be  at  any 


Black  Rock.  211 

rate.  1  m  ust  do  the  best — not  second  best — for  her, 
for  me.  The  best  only  is  God's  will.  What  else 
would  you  have  ?  Be  good  to  her  these  days, 
dear  old  fellow.     Yours, 

"Cbaig." 

How  often  those  words  have  braced  me  he 
will  never  know,  but  I  am  a  better  man  for  them  : 
"  The  best  only  is  God's  will.  What  else  would 
you  have  ?  "  I  resolved  I  would  rage  and  fret  no 
more,  and  that  I  would  worry  Mrs.  Mavor  with 
no  more  argument  or  expostulation,  but,  as  my 
friend  had  asked,  "  be  good  to  her." 


212  Black  Rock. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


LOVE  IS  NOT  ALL. 


Those  days  when  we  were  waiting  Craig's  re- 
\  urn  Ave  spent  in  the  woods  or  on  the  mountain- 
sides or  down  in  the  canyon  beside  the  stream  that 
danced  down  to  meet  the  Black  Rock  Kiver,  I 
talking  and  sketching  and  reading,  and  she  listen- 
ing and  dreaming,  with  often  a  happy  smile  upon 
her  face.  But  there  were  moments  when  a  cloud 
of  shuddering  fear  would  sweep  the  smile  away, 
and  then  I  would  talk  of  Craig  till  the  smile 
came  back  again. 

But  the  woods  and  the  mountains  and  the 
river  were  her  best,  her  wisest  friends  during 
those  days.  How  sweet  the  ministry  of  the 
woods  to  her  !  The  trees  were  in  their  sum- 
mer leaves,  fresh  and  full  of  life.  They  swayed 
and  rustled  above  us,  flinging  their  interlacing 
shadows  upon  us,  and  their  swaying  and  their 
rustling  soothed  and  comforted  like  the  voice 
and  touch  of  a  mother.  And  the  mountains,  too, 
in  all  the  glory  of  their  varying  robes  of   blues 


Black  Reck.  213 

and  purples,  stood  calmly,  solemnly  about  us,  up- 
lifting  our  souls  into  regions  of  rest.  The  chang- 
ing lights  and  shadows  flitted  swiftly  over  their 
rufrsred  fronts,  but  left  them  ever  as  before  in 
their  steadfast  majesty.  "  God's  in  His  heaven." 
"What  would  you  have  ?  And  ever  the  little  river 
sang  its  cheerful  courage,  fearing  not  the  great 
mountains  that  threatened  to  bar  its  passage  to 
the  sea.  Mrs.  Mavor  heard  the  song  and  her 
courage  rose. 

"  We  too  shall  find  our  way,"  she  said,  and  I 
believed  her. 

But  through  these  days  I  could  not  make  her 
out,  and  I  found  myself  studying  her  as  I  might 
a  new  acquaintance.  Years  had  fallen  from  her ; 
she  was  a  girl  again,  full  of  young,  warm  life. 
She  was  as  sweet  as  before,  but  there  was  a  soft 
shyness  over  her,  a  half-shamed,  half-frank  con- 
sciousness in  her  face,  a  glad  light  in  her  eyes 
that  made  her  all  new  to  me.  Her  perfect  trust 
in  Craig  was  touchino;  to  see. 

"  He  will  tell  me  what  to  do,"  she  would  say, 
till  I  began  to  realize  how  impossible  it  would 
be  for  him  to  betray  such  trust  and  be  anything 
but  true  to  the  best. 

So  mucli  did  I  dread  Craig's  home-coming  that 
I  sent  for  Graeme  and  old  man  Nelson,  who  was 
more  and  more  Graeme's  trusted  counselor  and 


214  Black  Rock. 

friend.  They  were  both  highly  excited  by  the 
story  I  had  to  tell,  for  I  thought  it  best  to  tell 
them  all ;  but  I  was  not  a  little  surprised  and 
disgusted  that  they  did  not  see  the  matter  in  my 
light.  In  vain  I  protested  against  the  madness 
of  allowing  anything  to  send  these  two  from 
each  other.  Graeme  summed  up  the  discussion 
in  his  own  emphatic  way,  but  with  an  earnest- 
ness in  his  words  not  unusual  with  him. 

"  Craig  will  know  better  than  any  of  us  what 
is  right  to  do,  and  he  will  do  that,  and  no  man 
can  turn  him  from  it ;  and,"  he  added,  "  I  should 
be  sorry  to  try." 

Then  my  wrath  rose  and  I  cried : 

"  It's  a  tremendous  shame !  They  love  each 
other.  You  are  talking  sentimental  humbug  and 
nonsense !  " 

"  He  must  do  the  right,"  said  IS"elson  in  his 
Jeep,  quiet  voice. 

"  Eight !  JSTonsense!  By  what  right  does  he 
send  from  him  the  woman  he  loves  ? " 

"  '  He  pleased  not  Himself,'  "  quoted  Nelson 
reverently. 

"  Nelson  is  right,"  said  Graeme.  "  I  should 
not  like  to  see  him  weakened." 

"  Look  here,"  I  stormed  ;  "  I  didn't  bring  you 
men  to  back  him  up  in  his  nonsense.  I  thought 
you  could  keep  your  heads  level." 


Black  Rock.  215 

"  Kow,  Connor,"  said  Graeme,  "  don't  rage — 
leave  that  for  the  heathen ;  it's  bad  form,  and 
useless  besides.  Craig  will  walk  his  way  Avhere 
his  light  falls  ;  and  by  all  that's  holy,  I  should 
hate  to  see  him  fail ;  for  if  he  weakens  like  the 
rest  of  us  my  North  Star  will  have  dropped  from 
my  sky." 

"  Nice  selfish  spirit,"  I  muttered. 

"  Entirely  so.  I'm  not  a  saint,  but  I  feel  like 
steering  by  one  when  I  see  him." 

"When,  after  a  week  had  gone,  Craig  rode  up 
one  early  morning  to  his  shack  door,  his  face  told 
me  that  he  had  fought  his  fight  and  had  not  been 
beaten.  He  had  ridden  all  night  and  was  ready 
to  drop  with  weariness. 

"  Connor,  old  boy,"  he  said,  putting  out  his 
hand,  "  I'm  rather  played.  There  was  a  bad  row 
at  the  Landing.  1  have  just  closed  poor  Colley's 
eyes.  It  was  awful.  I  must  get  sleep.  Look 
after  Dandy,  will  you,  like  a  good  chap  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Dandy  be  hanged  ! "  I  said,  for  I  knew 
it  was  not  the  fight,  nor  the  watching,  nor  the 
long  ride  that  had  shaken  his  iron  nerve  and  given 
him  that  face.  "  Go  in  and  lie  down.  I'll  bring 
you  something." 

"  Wake  me  in  the  afternoon,"  he  said.  "  She 
is  waiting.  Perhaps  you  will  go  to  her" — his 
lips  quivered — "  my  nerve  is  rather  gone."    Then 


2i6  Black  Rock. 

with  a  very  wan  smile  he  added:  "I  am  giving 
you  a  lot  of  trouble." 

"  You  go  to  thunder !  "  I  burst  out,  for  my 
throat  was  hot  and  sore  with  grief  for  him.  ^ 

"  I  think  I'd  rather  go  to  sleep,"  he  replied, 
still  smiling, 

I  could  not  speak,  and  was  glad  of  the  chance 
of  being  alone  with  Dandy. 

\V  hen  I  came  in  I  found  him  sitting  with  his 
head  in  his  arms  upon  the  table  fast  asleep.  1 
made  him  tea,  forced  him  to  take  a  warm  bath, 
and  sent  him  to  bed,  while  I  went  to  Mrs. 
Mavor.  I  went  with  a  fearful  heart,  but  that 
was  because  I  had  forgotten  the  kind  of  woman 
she  was. 

She  was  standing  in  the  light  of  the  window 
waiting  for  me.  Her  face  was  pale  but  steady, 
there  was  a  proud  light  in  her  fathomless  eyes,  a 
slight  smile  parted  her  lips,  and  she  carried  her 
head  like  a  queen, 

"  Come  in,"  she  said.  "  You  need  not  fear 
to  tell  me.  I  saw  him  ride  home.  He  has 
not  failed,  thank  God !  I  am  proud  of  him.  I 
knew  he  would  be  true.  He  loves  me" — she 
drew  in  her  breath  sharply  and  a  faint  color 
tinged  her  cheeks — "  but  he  knows  love  is  not 
all— ah,  love  is  not  all  I  Oh  I  I  am  glad  and 
proud  1 " 


Black  Rock.  217 

"  Glad  ! "  I  gasped,  amazed. 

"  You  would  not  have  him  prove  faithless ! " 
she  said  with  proud  defiance. 

"  Oh,  it  is  high  sentimental  nonsense,"  I  could 
not  help  saying, 

"  You  should  not  say  so,"  she  replied,  and  her 
voice  rang  clear.  "  Honor,  faith,  and  duty  are 
sentiments,  but  they  are  not  nonsense." 

In  spite  of  my  rage  I  was  lost  in  amazed  ad- 
miration of  the  high  spirit  of  the  woman  who 
stood  up  so  straight  before  me.  But  as  I  told 
how  worn  and  broken  he  was  she  listened  with 
changing  color  and  swelling  bosom,  her  proud 
courage  all  gone,  and  only  love,  anxious  and  pity- 
ing, in  her  eyes. 

"  Shall  I  go  to  him  ? "  she  asked  with  timid 
eagerness  and  deepening  color. 

"  He  is  sleeping.  He  said  he  would  come  to 
you,"  I  replied. 

*'  I  shall  wait  for  him,"  she  said  softly,  and  the 
tenderness  in  her  tone  went  straight  to  my  heart, 
and  it  seemed  to  me  a  man  might  suffer  much  to 
be  loved  with  love  such  as  this. 

In  the  early  afternoon  Graeme  came  to  her. 
She  met  him  with  both  hands  outstretched, 
saying  in  a  low  voice  : 

"  I  am  very  happy." 

"  Are  you  sure  2 "  he  asked  anxiously. 


2i8  Black  Rock. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  said,  but  her  voice  was  like  a 
sob  ;  "  quite,  quite  sure." 

They  talked  long  together  till  I  saw  that  Craig 
must  soon  be  coming,  and  I  called  Graeme  away. 
He  held  her  hands,  looking  steadily  into  her  eyes, 
and  said : 

"  You  are  better  even  than  I  thought.  I'm 
going  to  be  a  better  man." 

Her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  but  her  smile  did  not 
fade  as  she  answered : 

"  Yes !  you  will  be  a  good  man,  and  God  will 
give  you  work  to  do." 

He  bent  his  head  over  her  hands  and  stepped 
back  from  her  as  from  a  queen,  but  he  spoke  no 
words  till  we  came  to  Craig's  door.  Then  he 
said  with  humility  that  seemed  strange  in  him : 

"  Connor,  that  is  great,  to  conquer  one's  self. 
It  is  worth  while.     I  am  going  to  try." 

I  would  not  have  missed  his  meeting  with 
Craig.  Nelson  was  busy  with  tea.  Craig  was 
writing  near  the  window.  He  looked  up  as 
Graeme  came  in  and  nodded  an  easy  good-eve- 
ning ;  but  Graeme  strode  to  him  and,  putting  one 
hand  on  his  shoulder,  held  out  his  hand  for  Craig 
to  take. 

After  a  moment's  surprise  Craig  rose  to  his  feet, 
and,  facing  him  squarely,  took  the  offered  hand 
in  both  of  his  and  held   it  fast  without  a  word. 


Black  Rock.  219 

Graeme  was  the  first  to  speak,  and  his  voice  was 
deep  with  emotion  : 

"  You  are  a  great  man,  a  good  man.  I'd  give 
something  to  have  your  grit." 

Poor  Craig  stood  looking  at  him,  not  daring  to 
speak  for  some  moments  ;  then  he  said  quietly  : 

"  Not  good  nor  great,  but,  thank  God,  not  quite 
a  traitor." 

"  Good  man  !  "  went  on  Graeme,  patting  him 
on  the  shoulder.     "  Good  man  !     But  it's  tough." 

Craig  sat  down  quickly,  saying  : 

"  Don't  do  that,  old  chap !  " 

I  went  up  with  Craig  to  Mrs.  Mavor's  door. 
She  did  not  hear  us  coming,  but  stood  near  the 
window  gazing  up  at  the  mountains.  She  was 
dressed  in  some  rich  soft  stuff  and  wore  at  her 
breast  a  bunch  of  wild  flowers.  I  had  never  seen 
her  so  beautiful.  I  did  not  wonder  that  Craiff 
paused  with  his  foot  upon  the  threshold  to  look 
at  her.  She  turned  and  saw  us.  "With  a  glad 
cry,  "  Oh !  my  darling !  you  have  come  to  me," 
she  came  with  outstretched  arms.  I  turned  and 
fled,  but  the  cry  and  the  vision  were  long  with 
me. 

It  was  decided  that  night  that  Mrs.  Mavor 
should  go  the  next  week.  A  miner  and  his  wife 
were  going  East,  and  I  too  would  join  the  partv. 

The  camp  went  into  mourning  at  the  news,  but 


220  Black  Rock. 

it  was  understood  that  any  display  of  grief  before 
Mrs.  Mavor  was  bad  form.  She  was  not  to  be 
annoyed. 

But  when  I  suggested  that  she  should  leave 
quietly  and  avoid  the  pain  of  saying  good-by,  she 
flatly  refused. 

"  I  must  say  good-by  to  every  man.  They  love 
me  and  I  love  them." 

It  was  decided,  too,  at  first,  that  there  should 
be  nothing  in  the  way  of  a  testimonial,  but  when 
Craig  found  out  that  the  men  were  coming  to  her 
with  all  sorts  of  extraordinary  gifts,  he  agreed 
that  it  would  be  better  that  they  should  unite  in 
one  gift.  So  it  was  agreed  that  I  should  buy  a 
ring  for  her.  And  were  it  not  that  the  contribu- 
tions were  strictly  limited  to  one  dollar,  the  purse 
that  Slavin  handed  her  when  Shaw  read  the  ad- 
dress at  the  farewell  supper  would  have  been 
many  times  filled  with  the  gold  that  was  pressed 
upon  the  committee.  There  were  no  speeches  at 
the  supper,  except  one  by  myself  in  reply  on  Mrs. 
Mavor's  behalf.  She  had  given  me  the  words  to 
say,  and  I  was  thoroughly  prepared,  else  I  should 
not  have  got  through.  I  began  in  the  usual  way : 
"  Mr.    Chairman,    ladies    and    gentlemen :  Mrs. 

Mavor  is "     But  I  got  no  further,  for  at  the 

mention  of  her  name  the  men  stood  on  the  chairs 
and  yelled  until  they  could  jell  no  more.    There 


Black  Rock.  221 

were  over  two  hundred  and  fifty  of  them,  and  the 
effect  was  overpowering.  But  I  got  through  my 
speech. 

I  remember  it  well.  It  began  :  "  Mrs.  Mavor 
is  greatly  touched  by  this  mark  of  3^ our  love,  and 
she  will  wear  your  ring  always  with  pride."  And 
it  ended  with :  "  She  has  one  request  to  make, 
that  you  will  be  true  to  the  league  and  that  you 
stand  close  about  the  man  who  did  most  to  make 
it.  She  wishes  me  to  say  that  however  far  away 
she  may  have  to  go,  she  is  leaving  her  heart  in 
Black  Rock,  and  she  can  think  of  no  greater  joy 
than  to  come  back  to  you  again." 

Then  they  had  "  The  Sweet  By  and  By,"  but 
the  men  would  not  join  in  the  refrain,  unwilling 
to  lose  a  note  of  the  glorious  voice  they  loved  to 
hear.  Before  the  last  verse  she  beckoned  to  me. 
I  went  to  her  standing  by  Craig's  side  as  he 
played  for  her. 

"  Ask  them  to  sing,"  she  entreated.  "  I  cannot 
bear  it." 

"  Mrs.  Mavor  wishes  you  to  sing  in  the  refrain," 
I  said,  and  at  once  the  men  sat  up  and  cleared 
their  throats.  The  singing  was  not  good,  for  at 
the  first  sound  of  the  hoarse  notes  of  the  men 
Craig's  head  went  down  over  the  organ,  for  he 
was  thinking,  I  suppose,  of  the  days  before  them 
when  they  would  long  in  vain  for  that  thrilling 


222  Black  Rock. 

voice  that  soared  high  over  their  own  hoarse  tones. 
And  after  the  voices  died  awa}'^  he  kept  on  playing 
till,  half  turning  toward  him,  she  sang  alone  once 
more  the  refrain  in  a  voice  low  and  sweet  and 
tender,  as  if  for  him  alone.  And  so  he  took  it, 
for  he  smiled  up  at  her  his  old  smile  full  of  courage 
and  full  of  love. 

Then  for  one  whole  hour  she  stood  saying  good- 
by  to  those  rough,  gentle-hearted  men  whose  in- 
spiration to  goodness  she  had  been  for  five  years. 
It  was  very  wonderful  and  very  quiet.  It  was 
understood  that  there  was  to  be  no  nonsense,  and 
Abe  had  been  heard  to  declare  that  he  would 
"  throw  out  any  cotton-backed  fool  who  couldn't 
hold  himself  down,"  and  further,  he  had  enjoined 
them  to  remember  that  her  arm  "  wasn't  a  pump- 
handle." 

At  last  they  were  all  gone,  all  but  her  guard  of 
honor — Shaw,  Yernon,  Winton,  Geordie,  Nixon, 
Abe,  Nelson,  Craig,  and  myself. 

This  was  the  real  farewell ;  for  though  in  the 
early  light  of  the  next  morning  two  hundred  men 
stood  silent  about  the  stage,  and  then  as  it  moved 
out  waved  their  hats  and  yelled  madly,  this  was 
the  last  touch  they  had  of  her  hand.  Her  place 
was  up  on  the  driver's  seat  between  Abe  and  Mr. 
Craig,  who  held  little  Marjorie  on  his  knee.  The 
rest  of  the  guard  of  honor  were  to  follow  wiih 


Black  Rock.  223 

Graeme's  team.  It  was  "Winton's  fine  sense  that 
kept  Graeme  from  following  them  close.  "  Let 
her  go  out  alone,"  he  said,  and  so  we  held  back 
and  watched  her  go. 

She  stood  with  her  back  toward  Abe's  plunging 
four-horse  team,  and  steadying  herself  with  one 
hand  on  Abe's  shoulder,  gazed  down  upon  us. 
Her  head  was  bare,  her  lips  parted  in  a  smile,  her 
eyes  glowing  with  their  own  deep  light ;  and  so, 
facing  us,  erect  and  smiling,  she  drove  away, 
waving  us  farewell  till  Abe  swung  his  team  into 
the  canyon  road  and  we  saw  her  no  more.  A 
sigh  shuddered  through  the  crowd,  and,  with  a 
sob  in  his  voice,  Winton  said :  "  God  help  us  all." 

I  close  my  eyes  and  see  it  all  again.  The 
waving  crowd  of  dark-faced  men,  the  plunging 
horses,  and,  high  up  beside  the  driver,  the  sway- 
ing,  smiling,  waving  figure,  and  about  all  the 
mountains,  framing  the  picture  with  their  dai-k 
sides  and  white  peaks  tipped  with  the  gold  of  tlie 
rising  sun.  It  is  a  picture  I  love  to  look  u])on, 
albeit  it  calls  up  another  that  I  can  never  see  but 
through  tears. 

I  look  across  a  strip  of  ever-widening  water  at 
a  group  of  men  upon  the  wharf,  standing  with 
heads  uncovered,  every  man  a  hero,  though  not  a 
man  of  them  suspects  it,  least  of  all  the  man  who 
stands  in  front,  strong,  resolute,  self-conquered. 


224  Black  Rock. 

And,  gazing  long,  I  think  I  see  him  turn  again  to 
his  place  among  the  men  of  the  mountains,  not 
forgetting,  but  every  day  remembering  the  great 
love  that  came  to  him,  and  remembering,  too, 
that  love  is  not  all.     It  is  then  the  tears  come. 

But  for  that  picture  two  of  us  at  least  are  better 
men  to-day. 


Black  Rock.  225 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

HOW   NELSON   CAME    HOME. 

Through  the  long  summer  the  mountains  and 
the  pines  were  with  me.  And  through  the  winter 
too,  busy  as  I  was  filling  in  my  Black  Rock 
sketches  for  the  railroad  people  who  would  still 
persist  in  ordering  them  by  the  dozen,  the  memory 
of  that  stirring  life  would  come  over  me,  and  once 
more  I  would  be  among  the  silent  pines  and  the 
mighty  snow-peaked  mountains.  And  before  me 
would  appear  the  red-shirted  shantj'^men  or  dark- 
faced  miners,  great,  free,  bold  fellows,  driving  me 
almost  mad  with  the  desire  to  seize  and  fix  those 
swiftly  changing  groups  of  picturesque  figures. 
At  such  times  I  would  drop  my  sketch,  and  with 
eager  brush  seize  a  group,  a  face,  a  figure,  and 
that  is  how  my  studio  comes  to  be  filled  with  the 
men  of  Black  Rock.  There  they  are  all  about  me. 
Graeme  and  the  men  from  the  woods,  Sandy, 
Baptiste,  the  Campbells,  and  in  many  attitudes 
and  groups  old  man  Nelson  ;  Craig,  too,  and  his 
miners,  Shaw,  Geordie,  Nixon,  and  poor  old  Billy 
and  the  keeper  of  the  league  saloon. 
5 


226  Black  Rock. 

It  seemed  as  if  I  lived  among  them,  and  the 
illusion  was  greatly  helped  by  the  vivid  letters 
Graeme  sent  me  from  time  to  time.  Brief  notes 
came  now  and  then  from  Craig,  too,  to  w^hom  I 
had  sent  a  faithful  account  of  how  I  had  brought 
Mrs.  Mavor  to  her  ship,  and  of  how  I  had  watched 
her  sail  away  w^ith  none  too  brave  a  face  as  she 
held  up  her  hand  that  bore  the  miner's  ring  and 
smiled  with  that  deep  light  in  her  eyes.  Ah  I 
those  eyes  have  driven  me  to  despair  and  made 
me  fear  that  I  am  no  great  painter,  after  all,  in 
spite  of  what  my  friends  tell  me  who  come  in  to 
smoke  my  good  cigars  and  praise  my  brush.  I 
can  get  the  brow  and  hair  and  mouth  and  pose, 
but  the  eyes  !  the  eyes  elude  me — and  the  faces  of 
Mrs.  Mavor  on  my  wall,  that  the  men  praise  and 
rave  over,  are  not  such  as  I  could  show  to  any  of 
the  men  from  the  mountains. 

Graeme's  letters  tell  me  chiefly  about  Craig 
and  his  doings  and  about  old  man  Nelson  ;  while 
from  Craig  I  hear  about  Graeme,  and  how  he  and 
Nelson  are  standing  at  his  back  and  doing  what 
they  can  to  fill  the  gap  that  never  can  be  filled. 
The  three  are  much  together,  I  can  see,  and  I  am 
glad  for  them  all,  but  chiefly  for  Craig,  whose 
face,  grief-stricken  but  resolute,  and  often  gentle 
as  a  woman's,  wiU  not  leave  me  nor  let  me  rest 
in  peace. 


Black  Rock.  227 

The  note  of  thanks  he  sent  me  was  entirely 
characteristic.  There  were  no  heroics,  much  less 
pining  or  self-pity.  It  was  simple  and  manly, 
not  ignoring  the  pain,  but  making  much  of  the  joy. 
And  then  they  had  their  work  to  do.  That  note, 
so  clear,  so  manly,  so  nobly  sensible,  stiffens  my 
back  yet  at  times. 

In  the  spring  came  the  startling  news  that  Black 
Hock  would  soon  be  no  more.  The  mines  were 
to  close  down  on  April  1 .  The  company,  having 
allured  the  confiding  public  with  enticing  de- 
scriptions of  marvelous  drifts,  veins,  assays,  and 
prospects,  and  having  expended  vast  sums  of  the 
public's  money  in  developing  the  mines  till  the 
assurance  of  their  reliability  was  absolutely  final, 
calmly  shut  down  and  vanished.  With  their 
vanishing  vanishes  Black  Rock,  not  without  loss 
and  much  deep  cursing  on  the  part  of  the  men 
brought  some  hundreds  of  miles  to  aid  the  com- 
pany in  its  extraordinary  and  wholly  inexplicable 
game. 

Personally  it  grieved  me  to  think  that  my  plan 
of  returning  to  Black  Eock  could  never  be  carried 
out.  It  was  a  great  compensation,  however,  that 
the  three  men  most  representative  to  me  of  that 
life  were  soon  to  visit  me  actually  in  my  own 
home  and  den.  Graeme's  letter  said  that  in  one 
month  they  might  be  expected  to  appear.     At 


228  Black  Rock. 

least  he  and  Nelson  were  soon  to  come,  and  Craig 
would  soon  follow. 

On  receiving  the  great  news  I  at  once  looked 
up  young  IS^elson  and  his  sister,  and  we  proceeded 
to  celebrate  the  joyful  prospect  with  a  specially 
good  dinner.  I  found  the  greatest  delight  in 
picturing  the  joy  and  pride  of  the  old  man  in  his 
children,  whom  he  had  not  seen  for  fifteen  or  six- 
teen years.  The  mother  had  died  some  five  years 
before,  then  the  farm  was  sold,  and  the  brother 
and  sister  came  into  the  city  ;  and  any  father 
might  be  proud  of  them.  The  son  was  a  well- 
made  young  fellow,  handsome  enough,  thoughtful, 
and  solid-looking.  The  girl  reminded  me  of  her 
father.  The  same  resolution  was  seen  in  mouth 
and  jaw  and  the  same  passion  slumbered  in  the 
dark  gray  e^^es.  She  was  not  beautiful,  but  she 
carried  herself  well,  and  one  would  always  look 
at  her  twice.  It  would  be  worth  something  to 
see  the  meeting  between  father  and  daughter. 

But  fate,  the  greatest  artist  of  us  all,  takes 
little  count  of  the  careful  drawing  and  the  bright 
colorings  of  our  fancy's  pictures,  but  with  rude 
hand  deranges  all,  and  with  one  swift  sweep 
paints  out  the  bright  and  paints  in  the  dark. 
And  this  trick  he  served  me  when,  one  June 
night,  after  long  and  anxious  waiting  for  some 
word  from  the  "West,  my  door  suddenly  opened 


Black  Rock.  229 

and  Graeme  walked  in  upon  me  like  a  specter, 
gray  and  voiceless.  My  shout  of  welcome  was 
choked  back  by  the  look  in  his  face,  and  I  could 
only  gaze  at  him  and  wait  for  his  word.  He 
gripped  my  hand,  tried  to  speak,  but  failed  to 
make  words  come. 

"  Sit  down,  old  man,"  I  said,  pushing  him  into 
my  chair,  "  and  take  your  time." 

He  obeyed,  looking  up  at  me  with  burning, 
sleepless  eyes.  My  heart  was  sore  for  his  misery, 
and  1  said,  "  Don't  mind,  old  chap ;  it  can't  be 
so  awfully  bad.  You're  here  safe  and  sound, 
at  any  rate,"  and  so  I  went  on  to  give  him 
time.  But  he  shuddered  and  looked  round  and 
groaned. 

"Now,  look  here,  Graeme,  let's  have  it.  "When 
did  you  land  here  ?  Where  is  Nelson  ?  Why 
didn't  you  bring  him  up  ? " 

"  He  is  at  the  station  in  his  coffin,"  he  answered 
slowly. 

"  In  his  coffin  ? "  I  echoed,  my  beautiful  pic- 
tures all  vanishing.     "  How  was  it  ? " 

"  Through  my  cursed  folly,"  he  groaned  bit- 
terly. 

"  What  happened  ? "  I  asked. 

But  ignoring  my  question  he  said  : 

"  I  must  see  his  children.  I  have  not  slept  for 
four  niglits.    I  hardly  know  what  I  am  doing  j 


230  Black  Rock. 

but  I  can't  rest  till  I  see  his  children.  I  promised 
him.     Get  them  for  me." 

"  To-morrow  will  do.  Go  to  sleep  now,  and  we 
shall  arrange  everything  to-morrow,"  I  urged. 

"  No !  "  he  said  fiercely  ;  "  to-night— now  !  " 

In  half  an  hour  they  were  listening,  pale  and 
grief -stricken,  to  the  story  of  their  father's  death. 

Poor  Graeme  was  relentless  in  his  self-condem- 
nation as  he  told  how,  through  his  "  cursed  folly," 
old  Nelson  was  killed.  The  three — Craig, 
Graeme,  and  Nelson — had  come  as  far  as  Yicto- 
ria  together.  There  they  left  Craig  and  came  on 
to  San  Francisco.  In  an  evil  hour  Graeme  met  a 
companion  of  other  and  evil  days,  and  it  was  not 
long  till  the  old  fever  came  upon  him. 

In  vain  Nelson  warned  and  pleaded.  The  re- 
action from  the  monotony  and  poverty  of  camp 
life  to  the  excitement  and  luxury  of  the  San  Fran- 
cisco  gaming  palaces  swung  Graeme  quite  off  his 
feet,  and  all  that  Nelson  could  do  was  to  follow 
from  place  to  place  and  keep  watch. 

"  And  there  he  would  sit,"  said  Graeme  in  a 
hard  bitter  voice,  "  Avaiting  and  watching  often 
till  the  gray  morning  light,  while  my  madness 
held  me  fast  to  the  table.  One  night  " — here  he 
paused  a  moment,  put  his  face  in  his  hands  and 
shuddered  ;  but  quickly  he  was  master  of  himself 
again,  and  went  on  in  the  same  hard  voice — "  one 


Black  Rock.  231 

night  my  partner  and  I  were  playing  two  men 
who  had  done  us  up  before.  I  knew  they  were 
cheating,  but  could  not  detect  them.  Game  after 
game  they  won,  till  I  was  furious  at  my  stupidity 
in  not  being  able  to  catch  them.  Happening  to 
glance  at  Nelson  in  the  corner,  I  caught,  a  mean- 
ing look,  and  looking  again,  he  threw  me  a  signal. 
I  knew  at  once  what  the  fraud  was,  and  next 
game  charged  the  fellow  with  it.  He  gave  me 
the  lie ;  I  struck  his  mouth,  but  before  I  could  draw 
my  gun,  his  partner  had  me  by  the  arms.  "What 
followed  I  hardly  knew.  While  I  was  struggling 
to  get  free  I  saw  him  reach  for  his  weapon,  but 
as  he  drew  it  Nelson  sprang  across  the  table  and 
bore  him  down.  "When  the  row  was  over  three 
men  lay  on  the  floor.  One  was  Nelson  ;  he  cook 
the  shot  meant  for  me." 

Again  the  story  paused. 

"  And  the  man  that  shot  him  2 " 

I  started  at  the  intense  fierceness  in  the  voice, 
and,  looking  upon  the  girl,  saw  her  eyes  blazing 
with  a  terrible  lio^ht. 

''  He  is  dead,"  answered  Graeme  indifferently. 

"  You  killed  him  ? "  she  asked  eagerly. 

Graeme  looked  at  her  curiously  and  answered 
slowly : 

"  I  did  not  mean  to.  He  came  at  me.  T  struck 
him  harder  than  I  knew.    He  never  moved." 


232  Black  Rock. 

She  drevr  a  sigh  of  satisfaction  and  waited. 

"  I  got  him  to  a  private  ward,  had  the  best  doctoi' 
in  the  city,  and  sent  for  Craig  to  Victoria.  For 
three  da3^s  we  thought  he  would  live — he  was 
keen  to  get  home  ;  but  by  the  time  Craig  came 
we  had  given  up  hope.  Oh,  but  I  was  thankful 
to  see  Craig  come  in,  and  the  joy  in  the  old  man's 
eyes  was  beautiful  to  see.  There  was  no  pain  at 
last,  and  no  fear.  He  would  not  allow  me  to  re- 
proach myself,  saying  over  and  over,  '  You  would 
have  done  the  same  for  me ' — as  I  would,  fast 
enough — '  and  it  is  better  me  than  you.  I  am  old 
and  done ;  you  will  do  much  good  yet  for  the 
boys.'  And  he  kept  looking  at  me  till  I  could 
only  promise  to  do  my  best. 

"  But  I  am  glad  I  told  him  how  much  good  he 
had  done  me  during  the  last  year,  for  he  seemed 
to  think  that  too  good  to  be  true.  And  when  Craig 
told  him  how  he  had  helped  the  boys  in  the  camp, 
and  how  Sandy  and  Baptiste  and  the  Campbells 
would  alwaj'^s  be  better  men  for  his  life  among 
them,  the  old  man's  face  actually  shone,  as  if 
light  were  coming  through.  And  with  surprise 
and  joy  he  kept  on  saying,  '  Do  you  think  so  ? 
Do  3'ou  think  so  ?  Perhaps  so ;  perhaps  so.' 
At  the  last  he  talked  of  Christmas  night  at  the 
camp.  You  were  there,  you  remember.  Craig 
had    been    holding    a  service,    and    something 


Black  Rock.  233 

happened.    I  don't  know  what,  but  they  both 

knew." 

"  I  know,"  I  said,  and  I  saw  again  the  picture 
of  the  old  man  under  the  pine,  upon  his  knees  in 
the  snow,  with  his  face  turned  up  to  the  stars. 

"  Whatever  it  was,  it  v.^as  in  his  mind  at  the 
very  last,  and  I  can  never  forget  his  face  as  he 
turned  it  to  Craig.  One  hears  of  such  things  :  1 
had  often,  but  had  never  put  much  faith  in  them  ; 
but  joy,  rapture,  triumph,  these  are  what  were  in 
his  face  as  he  said,  his  breath  coming  short  : 
'  You  said — He  wouldn't — fail  me — you  were 
rifrht — not  once — not  once — He  stuck  to  me — 
I'm  glad  he  told  me — thank  God — for  you — you 

showed — me— I'll  sje  Him — and — tell  Him- ' 

And  Craig,  kneeling  beside  him  so  steady — I  was 
behaving  like  a  fool — smiled  down  through  his 
streaming  tears  into  the  dim  eyes  so  brightly  till 
they  could  see  no  more.  Thank  him  for  that  ! 
He  helped  the  old  man  through,  and  he  helped 
me  too,  that  night,  thank  God  !  " 

And  Graeme's  voice,  hard  till  now,  broke  in  a 
sob. 

He  had  forgotten  us  and  was  back  beside  his 
passing  friend,  and  all  his  self-control  could  not 
keep  back  the  flowing  tears. 

"  It  was  his  life  for  mine,"  he  said  huskily. 

The  brother  and  sister  were  quietly  weeping, 


234  Black  Rock. 

but  spoke  no  word,  though  I  knew  Graeme  was 
waiting  for  them. 

I  took  up  the  word  and  told  of  what  I  had 
known  of  Nelson  and  his  influence  upon  the  men 
of  Black  Rock.  They  listened  eagerly  enough, 
but  still  without  speaking.  There  seemed  noth- 
ing to  say  till  I  suggested  to  Graeme  that  he  must 
get  some  rest.  Then  the  girl  turned  to  him,  and 
impulsively  putting  out  her  hand,  said  : 

"Oh,  it  is  all  so  sad  ;  but  how  can  we  ever 
thank  you  ? " 

"  Thank  me  !  "  gasped  Graeme.  "  Can  you  for- 
give me  ?     I  brought  him  to  his  death." 

"  No !  no !  You  must  not  say  so,"  she  an- 
swered hurriedly.  "  You  would  have  done  the 
same  for  him." 

"  God  knows  I  would,"  said  Graeme  earnestly  ; 
"  and  God  bless  you  for  your  words  !  " 

And  I  was  thankful  to  see  the  tears  start  in  his 
dry,  burning  eyes. 

We  carried  him  to  the  old  home  in  the  country, 
that  he  might  lie  by  the  side  of  the  wife  he  had 
loved  and  wronged.  A  few  friends  met  us  at  the 
wayside  station  and  followed  in  sad  procession 
along  the  country  road  that  wound  past  farms 
and  through  woods,  and  at  last  up  to  the  ascent 
where  the  quaint  old  wooden  church,  black  with 
the  rains  and  snows  of  many  years,  stood  among 


Black  Rock.  235 

its  silent  graves.  The  little  graveyard  sloped 
gently  toward  the  setting  sun,  and  from  it  one 
could  see,  far  on  every  side,  tlie  fields  of  grain  and 
meadow-land  that  wandered  off  over  softly  un- 
dulating hills  to  meet  the  maple  woods  at  the 
horizon,  dark,  green,  and  cool.  Here  and  there 
white  farmhouses,  with  great  barns  standing 
near,  looked  out  from  clustering  orchards. 

Up  the  grass-grown  walk  and  through  the 
crowding  mounds,  over  which  waves,  uncut,  the 
long,  tangling  grass,  we  bear  our  friend,  and  let 
him  gently  down  into  the  kindly  bosom  of  mother 
earth,  dark,  moist,  and  warm.  The  sound  of  a 
distant  cow-bell  mingles  with  the  voice  of  the 
last  prayer ;  the  clods  drop  heavily  with  heart- 
startling  echo ;  the  mound  is  heaped  and  shaped 
by  kindly  friends,  sharing  with  one  another  the 
task;  the  long  rough  sods  are  laid  over  and 
patted  into  place  ;  the  old  minister  takes  farewell 
in  a  few  words  of  gentle  sympathy  ;  the  brother 
and  sister,  with  lingering  looks  at  the  two  graves 
side  by  side,  the  old  and  the  new,  step  into  tlie 
farmer's  carriage  and  drive  away  ;  the  sexton 
locks  the  gate  and  goes  home,  and  we  are  left 
outside  alone. 

Then  we  went  back  and  stood  by  Nelson's 
grave. 

After  a  long  silence  Graeme  spoke. 


236  Black  Rock. 

"  Connor,  he  did  not  grudge  his  life  to  me,  and 
I  think  " — and  here  the  words  came  slowly — "  I 
understand  now  what  that  means,  *  Who  loved 
me  and  gave  Himself  for  me.'  " 

Then  taking  off  his  hat  he  said  reverently : 

"  By  God's  help  Nelson's  life  shall  not  end, 
but  shall  go  on.  Tes,  old  man  ! "  looking  down 
upon  the  grave,  "  I'm  with  you  ; "  and  lifting  up 
his  face  to  the  calm  sky,  "  God  help  me  to  be 
true." 

Then  he  turned  and  walked  briskly  away,  as  one 
might  who  had  pressing  business  or  as  soldiers 
march  from  a  comrade's  grave  to  a  merry  tune, 
not  that  they  have  forgotten,  but  they  have  still 
to  fight. 

And  this  was  the  way  old  man  Nelson  came 
home. 


Black  Rock.  237 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Graeme's  new  birth. 

There  was  more  left  in  that  grave  than  old 
man  Nelson's  dead  body.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
Graeme  left  part,  at  least,  of  his  old  self  there 
with  his  dead  friend  and  comrade  in  the  quiet 
country  churchyard.  I  waited  long  for  the  old 
careless,  reckless  spirit  to  appear,  but  he  Avas 
never  the  same  again.  The  change  was  unmis- 
takable, but  hard  to  define.  He  seemed  to  have 
resolved  his  life  into  a  definite  purpose.  He  was 
hardly  so  comfortable  a  fellow  to  be  with ;  he 
made  me  feel  even  more  lazy  and  useless  than 
was  my  wont ;  but  I  respected  him  more  and 
liked^him  none  the  less.  As  a  lion  he  was  not  a 
success.  He  would  not  roar.  This  was  disap^ 
pointing  to  me  and  to  his  friends  and  mine,  who 
had  been  waiting  his  return  with  eager  expecta- 
tion of  tales  of  thrilling  and  bloodthirsty  adven- 
ture. 

His  first  days  were  spent  in  making  right,  or 
as  nearly  right  as  he  could,  the  break  that  drove 
him  to  the  West.    His  old  firm  (and  I  have  had. 


238  Black  Rock. 

more  respect  for  the  humanity  of  lawyers  ever 
since)  behaved  really  well.  They  proved  the 
restoration  of  their  confidence  in  his  intesfritv 
and  ability  by  offering  him  a  place  in  the  firm, 
which,  however,  he  would  not  accept.  Then, 
when  he  felt  clean,  as  he  said,  he  posted  off  home, 
taking  me  with  him.  During  the  railroad  journey 
of  four  hours  he  hardly  spoke ;  but  when  we  had 
left  the  town  behind  and  had  fairly  got  upon  the 
country  road  that  led  toward  the  home  ten  miles 
away,  his  speech  came  to  him  in  a  great  flow. 
His  spirits  ran  over.  He  was  like  a  boy  return- 
ing from  his  first  college  term.  His  very  face 
wore  the  boy's  open,  innocent,  earnest  look  that 
used  to  attract  men  to  him  in  his  first  college 
year.  His  delight  in  the  fields  and  woods  in  the 
sweet  country  air  and  the  sunlight  was  without 
bound.  How  often  had  we  driven  this  road  to- 
gether in  the  old  days  ! 

Every  turn  was  familiar.  The  swamp  where 
the  tamaracks  stood  straight  and  slim  out  of 
their  beds  of  moss ;  the  brule,  as  we  used  to  call 
it,  where  the  pine  stumps,  huge  and  blackened, 
were  half  hidden  by  the  new  growth  of  poplars  and 
soft  maples ;  the  big  hill  where  we  used  to  get 
out  and  walk  when  the  roads  were  bad ;  the  or- 
chards where  the  harvest  apples  were  best  and 
most  accessible — all  had  their  memories. 


Black  Rock.  239 

It  was  one  of  those  perfect  afternoons  that  so 
often  come  in  the  early  Canadian  summer,  before 
nature  grows  weary  with  tlie  heat.  The  white 
gravel  road  was  trimmed  on  either  side  with  turf 
of  living  green,  close  cropped  by  the  sheep  that 
wandered  in  flocks  alono-  its  Avhole  length.  Be- 
yond  the  picturesque  snake-fences  stretched  the 
fields  of  springing  grain,  of  varying  shades  of  green, 
with  here  and  there  a  dark  brown  patch,  marking 
a  turnip  field  or  summer  fallow,  and  far  back  were 
the  woods  of  maple  and  beech  and  elm,  with  here 
and  there  the  tufted  top  of  a  mighty  pine,  the 
lonely  representative  of  a  vanished  race,  stand- 
ing clear  above  the  humbler  trees. 

As  we  drove  through  the  big  swamp,  where 
the  yawning,  haunted  gully  plunges  down  to  its 
gloomy  depths,  Graeme  reminded  me  of  that 
nio-ht  when  our  horse  saw  something:  in  that  same 
gully  and  refused  to  go  past ;  and  I  felt  again, 
though  it  was  broad  daylight,  something  of  the 
grue  that  shivered  down  my  back  as  I  saw  in  the 
moonlight  thoo'leam  of  a  white  thing;  far  through 
the  pine  trunks. 

As  we  came  nearer  home  the  houses  became 
familiar.  E^'^ery  house  had  its  tale :  we  had  eaten 
or  slept  in  most  of  them  ;  we  had  sampled  apples, 
and  cherries,  and  phims  from  their  orchards, 
openly  as  guests  or  secretly  as  marauders  under 


240  Black  Rock. 

cover  of  night — the  more  delightful  way,  I  fear. 
Ah  !  happy  days,  with  these  innocent  crimes  and 
fleeting  remorses,  how  bravely  we  faced  them, 
and  how  gaily  we  lived  them,  and  how  yearn- 
ingly we  look  back  at  them  now !  The  sun  was 
just  dipping  into  the  tree-tops  of  the  distant 
woods  behind  as  we  came  to  the  top  of  the  last 
hill  that  overlooked  the  valley  in  which  lay  the 
village  of  E-iverdale.  AVooded  hills  stood  about 
it  on  three  sides,  and  where  the  hills  faded  out 
there  lay  the  mill-pond  sleeping  and  smiling  in 
the  sun.  Through  the  village  ran  the  white  road, 
up  past  the  old  frame  church,  and  on  to  the 
white  manse  standing  among  the  trees.  That 
was  Graeme's  home,  and  mine  too,  for  I  had  never 
known  another  worthy  of  the  name.  "We  held 
up  our  team  to  look  down  over  the  valley,  with 
its  rampart  of  wooded  hills,  its  shining  pond, 
and  its  nestling  village,  and  on  past  to  the  church 
and  the  white  manse  hiding  among  the  trees. 
The  beauty,  the  peace,  the  warm,  loving  homeli- 
ness of  the  scene  came  about  our  hearts,  but,  be- 
ing men,  we  could  find  no  words. 

"  Let's  go,"  cried  Graeme,  and  down  the  hill 
we  tore  and  rocked  and  swayed,  to  the  amazement 
of  the  steady  team,  whose  education  from  the 
earliest  years  had  impressed  upon  their  minds  the 
criminality  of  attempting  to  do  anything  but 


Black  Rock.  241 

walk  carefully  down  a  hill,  at  least  for  two-thirds 
of  the  way.  Through  the  village,  in  a  cloud  of 
dust,  we  swept,  catching  a  glimpse  of  a  well- 
known  face  here  and  there  and  flinging  a  saluta- 
tion as  we  passed,  leaving  the  owner  of  the  face 
rooted  to  his  place  in  astonishment  at  the  sight 
of  Graeme  whirling  on  in  his  old-time,  well-known 
reckless  manner.  Only  old  Dune  M'Leod  was 
equal  to  the  moment,  for  as  Graeme  called  out, 
"  Hello,  Dune ! "  the  old  man  lifted  up  his  hands 
and  called  back  in  an  awed  voice :  "  Bless  my 
soul  I     Is  it  yourself  ?  " 

"  Stands  his  whisky  well,  poor  old  chap  I "  was 
Graeme's  comment. 

As  we  neared  the  church  he  pulled  up  his  team, 
and  we  went  quietly  past  the  sleepers  there,  then 
again  on  the  full  run  down  the  gentle  slope,  over 
the  little  brook,  and  up  to  the  gate.  He  had 
hardly  got  his  team  pulled  up  before  flinging  me 
the  lines,  he  was  out  over  the  wheel,  for  coming 
down  the  walk,  with  her  hands  lifted  high,  was  a 
dainty  little  lady  with  the  face  of  an  angel.  In 
a  moment  Graeme  had  her  in  his  arms.  I  heard 
the  faint  cry,  "  My  boy!  my  boy!"  and  got 
down  on  the  other  side  to  attend  to  my  off  horse, 
surprised  to  find  my  hands  trembling  and  my 
eyes  full  of  tears.  Back  upon  the  steps  stood 
an  old  gentleman,  with  white  hair  and  flowing 
16 


242  Black  Rock. 

beard,  handsome,  straight,  and  stately — Graeme's 
father,  waiting  his  turn. 

"  Welcome  home,  my  lad,"  was  his  greeting  as 
he  kissed  his  son,  and  the  tremor  of  his  voice 
and  the  sight  of  the  two  men  kissing  each  other 
like  women  sent  me  again  to  ray  horses'  heads. 

"  There's  Connor,  mother ! "  shouted  out 
Graeme,  and  the  dainty  little  lady,  in  her  blaok 
silk  and  white  lace,  came  out  to  me  quickly  with 
outstretched  hands. 

"  You,  too,  are  welcome  home,"  she  said,  and 
kissed  me. 

I  stood  with  my  hat  off,  saying  something 
about  being  glad  to  come,  but  wishing  that  I 
could  get  away  before  I  should  make  quite  a  fool 
of  myself.  For  as  I  looked  down  upon  that 
beautiful  face,  pale  except  for  a  faint  flush  upon 
each  faded  cheek,  and  read  the  story  of  pain  en- 
dured and  conquered,  and  as  I  thought  of  all  the 
long  years  of  waiting  and  of  vain  hoping,  1  found 
my  throat  dry  and  sore,  and  the  words  would 
not  come.  But  her  quick  sense  needed  no 
words,  and  she  came  to  my  help. 

"  You  will  find  Jack  at  the  stable,"  she  said, 
smiling.     "  He  ought  to  have  been  here." 

The  stable !  Why  had  I  not  thought  of  that 
before  ?     Thankfully  now  my  words  came ; 

"  Yes,  certainly  I'll  find  him,  Mrs.  Graeme.    I 


Black  Rock.  243 

suppose  Ko's  as  much  of  a  scapegrace  as  ever," 
and  off  I  went  to  look  u})  Graeme's  young  brother, 
who  had  given  every  promise  in  the  okl  days  of 
devek)})ment  into  as  stirring  a  rascal  as  one  could 
desire  ;  but  who,  as  I  found  out  later,  had  not 
lived  these  years  in  his  mother's  home  for  noth- 
ing. 

"  Oh,  Jack's  a  good  boy,"  she  answered,  smil- 
ins"  airain  as  she  turned  toward  the  other  two, 
now  waiting  for  her  upon  the  walk. 

The  week  that  followed  was  a  happy  one  for 
us  all ;  but  for  the  mother  it  was  full  to  the  brim 
with  joy.  Her  sweet  face  w^as  full  of  content 
and  in  her  eyes  rested  a  great  peace.  Our  days 
were  spent  driving  about  among  the  hills,  or 
strolling  through  the  maple  woods,  or  down  into 
the  tamarack  swamp,  where  the  pitcher  plants 
and  the  swamp  lilies  and  the  marigold  waved 
above  the  deep  moss.  In  the  evenings  we  sat 
under  the  trees  on  the  lawn  till  the  stars  came 
out  and  the  night  dews  drove  us  in.  Like  twe 
lovers,  Graeme  and  his  mother  would  wander 
off  together,  leaving  Jack  and  me  to  each  other. 
Jack  was  reading  for  divinity  and  was  really  a 
fine,  manly  fellow,  with  all  his  brother's  turn  for 
Rugby,  and  I  took  to  him  amazingly ;  but  after 
the  day  was  over  we  would  gather  about  the  » 
supper-table,  and  the  talk  would  be  of  all  ihings 


244  Black  Rock. 

under  heaven — art,  football,  theology.  The 
mother  would  lead  in  all.  How  quick  she  was, 
how  bright  her  fancy,  how  subtle  her  intellect, 
and  through  all  a  gentle  grace,  very  winning  and 
beautiful  to  see ! 

Do  what  I  would,  Graeme  would  talk  little  of 
the  mountains  and  his  life  there. 

"  My  lion  will  not  roar,  Mrs.  Graeme,"  I  com- 
plained ;  "  he  simply  will  not." 

"  You  should  twist  his  tail,"  said  Jack. 

"  That  seems  to  be  the  difficulty.  Jack,"  said 
his  mother,  "  to  get  hold  of  his  tale." 

"  Oh,  mother,"  groaned  Jack  ;  "  you  never  did 
such  a  thing  before  !  How  could  you  ?  Is  it 
this  baleful  Western  influence  ?  " 

"  I  shall  reform,  Jack,"  she  replied  brightly. 

"  But,  seriously, Graeme,"  I  remonstrated,"  you 
ought  to  tell  your  people  of  your  life — that  free, 
glorious  life  in  the  mountains." 

"  Free  !  Glorious  !  To  some  men,  perhaps  !  " 
said  Graeme,  and  then  fell  into  silence. 

But  I  saw  Graeme  as  a  new  man  the  night  he 
talked  theology  with  his  father.  The  old  minister 
was  a  splendid  Calvinist,  of  heroic  type,  and  as 
he  discoursed  of  God's  sovereignty  and  election 
his  face  glowed  and  his  voice  rang  out. 

Graeme  listened  intently,  now  and  then  putting ' 
in  a  question,  as  one  would  a  keen  knife-thrust 


Black  Rock.  245 

into  a  foe.  But  the  old  man  knew  his  ground  and 
moved  easily  among  his  ideas,  demolishing  tlio 
enemy  as  he  appeared  with  jaunty  grace.  In 
the  full  flow  of  his  triumphant  argument  Graeme 
turned  to  him  with  sudden  seriousness. 

"  Look  here,  father  !  I  was  born  a  Calvinist, 
and  I  can't  see  how  any  one  with  a  level  head  can 
hold  anything  else  than  that  the  Almighty  has 
some  idea  as  to  how  He  wants  to  run  His  universe, 
and  He  means  to  carry  out  His  idea  and  is  carry- 
ing it  out  ;  but  what  would  you  do  in  a  case  like 
this?" 

Then  he  told  him  the  story  of  poor  Billy  Breen, 
his  fight  and  his  defeat. 

"  Would  you  preach  election  to  that  chap  ? " 

The  mother's  eyes  were  shining  with  tears. 

The  old  gentleman  blew  his  nose  like  a  trumpet 
and  then  said  gravely  : 

"  No,  my  boy.  You  don't  feed  babies  with 
meat.     But  what  came  to  him  ?  " 

Then  Graeme  asked  me  to  finish  the  tale.  After 
I  had  finished  the  story  of  Billy's  final  triumph 
and  of  Craig's  part  in  it  they  sat  long  silent,  till 
the  minister,  clearing  his  throat  hard  and  blowing 
his  nose  more  like  a  trumpet  than  ever,  said  with 
great  emphasis  : 

"  Thank  God  for  such  a  man  in  such  a  place ! 
I  wish  there  were  more  of  us  like  him." 


246  Black  Rock. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  you  out  there,  sir,"  said 
Graeme  admiringly.  "  You'd  get  them,  but  you 
wouldn't  have  time  for  election." 

"  Yes !  yes  I  "  said  his  father  warmly.  "  I 
should  love  to  have  a  chance  just  to  preach  elec- 
tion to  these  poor  lads.  "Would  I  were  twenty 
years  younger !  " 

"  It  is  worth  a  man's  life,"  said  Graeme  earnestly. 

His  younger  brother  turned  his  face  eagerly  to- 
ward the  mother.  For  answer  she  slipped  her 
hand  into  his  and  said  softly,  while  her  eyes  shone 
like  stars : 

"  Some  day,  Jack,  perhaps  !     God  knows." 

But  Jack  only  looked  steadily  at  her,  smiling  a 
little  and  patting  her  hand. 

"  You'd  shine  there,  mother,"  said  Graeme,  smil» 
ing  upon  her.     "  You'd  better  come  with  me." 

She  started  and  said  firmly  : 

"  With  you  ? "  It  was  the  first  hint  he  bad 
given  of  his  purpose.     "  You  are  going  back  ? " 

"  What !  as  a  missionary  ? "  said  Jack. 

"Not  to  preach,  Jack.  I'm  not  orthodox 
enough,"  looking  at  his  father  and  shaking  his 
head  ;  "  but  to  build  railroads  and  lend  a  hand  to 
some  poor  chap,  if  I  can," 

"Could  you  not  find  work  nearer  home,  my 
boy  ? "  asked  the  father.  "  There  is  plenty  of  both 
kinds  near  us  here,  surely." 


Black  Rock.  247 

"  Lots  of  work,  but  not  mine,  I  fear,"  answered 
Graeme,  keej^ing  his  eyes  away  from  his  mother's 
face.     "  A  man  must  do  his  own  work." 

His  voice  was  quiet  and  resolute,  and  glancing  at 
the  beautiful  face  at  the  end  of  the  table,  I  saw  in 
the  pale  lips  and  yearning  eyes  that  the  mother 
was  offering  up  her  first-born,  that  ancient  suci-i- 
fice.  But  not  all  the  agony  of  sacrifice  could 
wring  from  her  entreaty  or  complaint  in  the  hear- 
ing of  her  sons.  That  was  for  other  ears  and  for 
the  silent  hours  of  the  night.  And  next  morning 
when  she  came  down  to  meet  us  her  face  was  wan 
and  weary,  but  it  wore  the  peace  of  victory  and  a 
glory  not  of  earth.  Her  greeting  was  full  of  dig- 
nity, sweet  and  gentle ;  but  when  she  came  to 
Graeme  she  lingered  over  him  and  kissed  him 
twice.  And  that  was  all  that  any  of  us  ever  saw 
of  that  sore  fight. 

At  the  end  of  the  week  I  took  leave  of  them, 
and  last  of  all  of  the  mother. 

She  hesitated  just  a  moment,  then  suddenly 
put  her  hands  upon  my  shoulders  and  kissed  me, 
saying  softl}^ : 

"  You  are  his  friend.  You  will  sometimes  come 
to  me  ? " 

"  Gladly,  if  I  may,"  I  hastened  to  answer,  for 
the  sweet,  brave  face  was  too  much  to  bear;  and 
till  she  left  us  for  that  world  of  which  she  was  a 


248  Black  Rock. 

part  I  kept  my  Avord,  to  my  own  great  and  lasting 
good.  When  Graeme  met  me  in  the  city  at  the 
end  of  the  summer  he  brought  me  her  love,  and 
then  burst  forth  : 

"  Connor,  do  you  know,  I  huve  just  discovered 
my  mother !  I  have  never  known  her  till  this 
summer." 

"  More  fool  you,"  I  answered,  for  often  had  I, 
who  had  never  known  a  mother,  envied  him  his. 

"  Yes,  that  is  true,"  he  answered  slowly  ;  "  but 
you  cannot  see  until  you  have  eyes." 

Before  he  set  out  again  for  the  "West  I  gave 
him  a  supper,  asking  the  men  who  had  been  with 
us  in  the  old  'varsity  days.  I  was  doubtful  as  to 
the  wisdom  of  this,  and  was  persuaded  only  by 
Graeme's  eager  assent  to  my  proposal. 

"  Certainly,  let's  have  them,"  he  said.  "  I  shall 
be  awful  glad  to  see  them ;  great  stuff  they 
were." 

"  But,  I  don't  know,  Graeme.  You  see — well 
— hang  it ! — you  know — you're  different,  you 
know." 

He  looked  at  me  curiously. 

"  I  hope  I  can  still  stand  a  good  supper,  and  if 
the  boys  can't  stand  me,  why,  I  can't  help  it.  I'll 
do  anything  but  roar,  and  don't  you  begin  to 
work  off  your  menagerie  act — now,  you  hear 
mel" 


Black  Rock.  249 

"  Well,  it  is  rather  hard  lines  that  when  I  have 
been  talking  up  ray  lion  for  a  year,  and  then 
finally  secure  him,  he  will  not  roar." 

"  Serve  you  right,"  he  replied  quite  heartlessly. 
«  But  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do— I'll  feed !  Don't 
you  worry,"  he  adds  soothingly  ;  "  the  supper 
will  go." 

And  go  it  did.  The  supper  was  of  the  best , 
the  wines  first  class.  I  had  asked  Graeme  about 
the  wines. 

"  Do  as  you  like,  old  man,"  was  his  answer. 
"  It's  your  supper,  but,"  he  added,  "  are  the  men 
all  straight  ? " 

I  ran  them  over  in  my  mind. 

«  Yes  ;  I  think  so." 

"  If  not,  don't  you  help  them  down  ;  and  any- 
way, you  can't  be  too  careful.  But  don't  mind 
me.  I  am  quit  of  the  whole  business  from  this 
out." 

So  I  ventured  wines,  for  the  last  time,  as  it 
happened. 

We  were  a  quaint  combination.  Old  "  Beetles," 
whose  nickname  was  prophetic  of  his  future  fame 
as  a  bugman,  as  the  fellows  irreverently  said; 
"  Stumpy  "  Smith,  a  demon  bowler  ;  Polly  Lind- 
sa}'^,  slow  as  ever  and  as  sure  as  when  he  held  the 
half-back  line  with  Graeme,  and  used  to  make  my 
heart  stand  still  with  terror  at  his  cool  delibera 


250  Black  Rock. 

tion.  But  he  was  never  known  to  fumble  nor  to 
funk,  and  somehow  he  always  got  us  out  safe 
enough.  Then  there  was  Rattray — "Eat"  for 
short — who,  from  a  swell,  had  developed  into  a 
cynic  with  a  sneer,  awfully  clever  and  a  good 
enough  fellow  at  heart.  Little  "  Wig  "  Martin, 
the  sharpest  quarter  ever  seen,  and  big  Barney 
Lundy,  center  scrimmage,  whose  terrific  roar  and 
rush  had  often  struck  terror  to  the  enemy's  heart, 
and  who  was  Graeme's  slave.  Such  was  the 
party. 

As  the  supper  went  on  my  fears  began  to 
vanish,  for  if  Graeme  did  not  "  roar  "  he  did  the 
next  best  thing — ate  and  talked  quite  up  to  his  old 
form.  'Now  we  played  our  matches  over  again, 
bitterly  lamenting  the  "  ifs  "  that  had  lost  us  the 
championships,  and  wildly  approving  the  tackles 
that  had  saved,  and  the  runs  that  had  made  the 
'varsity  crowd  go  mad  with  delight  and  had  won 
for  us.  And  as  their  names  came  up  in  talk  we 
learned  how  life  had  gone  with  those  who  had 
been  our  comrades  of  ten  years  ago.  Some  success 
had  lifted  to  high  places ;  some  failure  had  left 
upon  the  rocks  ;  and  a  few  lay  in  their  graves. 

But  as  the  evening  went  on  I  began  to  wish 
that  I  had  left  out  the  wines,  for  the  men  began 
to  drop  an  occasional  oath,  though  I  had  let  them 
know  during  the  summer  that  Graeme  was  noi 


Black  Rock.  251 

the  man  he  had  been.  But  Graeme  smoked  and 
talked  and  heeded  not,  till  Rattray  swore  by  that 
name  most  sacred  of  all  ever  borne  by  man. 
Then  Graeme  opened  upon  him  in  a  cool,  slow 
way: 

"  What  an  awful  fool  a  man  is  to  damn  thing^s 
as  you  do,  Rat.  Things  are  not  damned.  It  is 
men  who  are ;  and  that  is  too  bad  to  be  talked 
much  about.  But  when  a  man  flings  out  of  his 
foul  mouth  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ " — here  he 
lowered  his  voice — "  it's  a  shame — it's  more,  it's 
a  crime." 

There  was  dead  silence,  then  Rattray  replied  : 

"  1  suppose  you're  right  enough,  it  is  bad  form ; 
but  crime  is  rather  strong,  I  think." 

"  Not  if  you  consider  who  it  is,"  said  Graeme 
with  emphasis. 

"  Oh,  come  now,"  broke  in  Beetles.  "  Religion 
is  all  right,  is  a  good  thing,  and  I  believe  a  neces. 
sary  thing  for  the  race,  but  no  one  takes  seriously 
any  longer  the  Christ  myth." 

"  What  about  your  mother,  Beetles  ? "  put  in 
Wig  Martin. 

Beetles  consigned  him  to  the  pit  and  was  silent, 
for  his  father  was  an  Episcopal  clergyman  and 
his  mother  a  saintly  woman. 

"  I  fooled  with  that  for  some  time.  Beetles,  but 
it  won't  do.     You  can't  build  a  religion  that  will 


254  Black  Rock. 

take  the  devil  out  of  a  man  on  a  myth.  That 
won't  do  the  trick.  I  don't  want  to  argue  about 
it,  but  I  am  quite  convinced  the  myth  theory  is 
not  reasonable,  and,  besides,  it  won't  work." 

"  Will  the  other  work  ?  "  asked  Eattray  with 
a  sneer. 

"  Sure ! "  said  Graeme.     "  I've  seen  it." 

"  Where  ?  "  challenged  Kattray.  "  I  haven't 
seen  much  of  it.'* 

"  Yes,  you  have,  Rattray,  you  know  you  have," 
said  Wig  again. 

But  Eattray  ignored  him. 

"  I'll  tell  you,  boys,"  said  Graeme.  "  I  want 
you  to  know,  anyway,  why  I  believe  what  I  do." 

Then  he  told  them  the  story  of  old  man  I^elson, 
from  the  old  coast  days,  before  I  knew  him,  to 
the  end.  He  told  the  story  well.  The  stern 
fight,  and  the  victory  of  the  life,  and  the  self- 
sacrifice,  and  the  pathos  of  the  death  appeal  to 
these  men,  who  loved  fight  and  could  understand 
sacrifice, 

"  That's  why  I  believe  in  Jesus  Christ,  and 
that's  why  I  think  it  a  crime  to  fling  His  name 
about ! " 

"I  wish  to  heaven  I  could  say  that,"  said 
Beetles, 

"  Keep  wishing  hard  enough  and  it  will  come 
to  you,"  said  Graeme. 


Black  Rock.  253 

"  Look  here,  old  chap,"  said  Rattray,  "you're 
quite  right  about  this ;  I'm  willing  to  own  up. 
"Wig  is  correct.  I  know  a  few,  at  least,  of  that 
stamp,  but  most  of  those  who  go  in  for  that  sort 
of  thing  are  not  much  account." 

"  For  ten  years,  Rattray,"  said  Graeme  in  a 
downright,  matter-of-fact  way,  "  you  and  I  have 
tried  this  sort  of  thing" — tapping  a  bottle — "ana 
we  got  out  of  it  all  there  is  to  be  got,  paid  well 
for  it,  too,  and — faugh !  you  know  it's  not  good 
enough,  and  the  more  you  go  in  for  it  the  more 
you  curse  yourself.  So  I  have  quit  this  and  I  am 
going  in  for  the  other." 

"  What !  going  in  for  preaching  ?  " 

"  Not  much — railroading — money  in  it — and 
lending  a  hand  to  fellows  on  the  rocks." 

"  I  say,  don't  you  want  a  center  forward  ? " 
said  big  Barney  in  his  deep  voice. 

"  Every  man  must  play  his  game  in  his  place, 
old  chap.  I'd  like  to  see  you  tackle  it,  though, 
right  well,"  said  Graeme  earnestly. 

And  so  he  did,  in  the  after  years,  and  good 
tackling  it  was.     But  that  is  another  story. 

"  But  I  sa\',  Graeme,"  persisted  Beetles,  "  about 
this  business.  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  go  the 
whole  thing — Jonah,  you  know,  and  the  rest  of 
it?" 

Graeme  hesitated,  then  said ; 


254  Black  Rock. 

"  I  haven't  much  of  a  creed,  Beetles ;  don't 
really  know  how  much  I  believe.  But,"  by  this 
time  he  was  standing,  "  I  do  know  that  good  is 
good  and  bad  is  bad,  and  good  and  bad  are  not  the 
same.  And  I  know  a  man's  a  fool  to  follow  the  one 
and  a  wise  man  to  follow  the  other,  and,"  lower- 
ing his  voice,  "  I  believe  God  is  at  the  back  of  a 
man  who  \vants  to  get  done  with  bad.  I've  tried 
all  that  folly,"  sweeping  his  hand  over  the  glasses 
and  bottles,  "  and  all  that  goes  with  it,  and  I've 
done  viith.  it." 

"  I'll  go  you  that  far,"  roared  big  Barney, 
following  his  old  captain  as  of  yore. 

"  Good  man,"  said  Graeme,  striking  hands  with 
him. 

"  Put  me  down,"  said  little  "Wig  cheerfully. 

Then  I  took  up  the  word,  for  there  rose  before 
me  the  scene  in  the  league  saloon,  and  I  saw  the 
beautiful  face  with  the  deep  shining  eyes,  and  I 
was  speaking  for  her  again.  I  told  them  of  Craig 
and  his  fight  for  these  men's  lives.  I  told  them, 
too,  of  how  I  had  been  too  indolent  to  begin. 

"But,"  I  said,  "I  am  going  this  far  from  to- 
night," and  I  swept  the  bottles  into  the  cham- 
pagne tub. 

"  I  say,"  said  Polly  Lindsay,  coming  up  in  his 
old  style,  slow  but  sure,  ''  let's  all  go  in,  say  for 
five  years." 


Black  Rock  255 

And  so  we  did.  We  didn't  sign  anything,  but 
every  man  shook  hands  with  Graeme. 

And  as  I  told  Craig  about  this  a  year  later, 
when  he  was  on  his  way  back  from  his  old-land 
trip  to  join  Graeme  in  the  mountains,  he  threw 
up  his  head  in  the  old  way  and  said,  "  It  was  weL 
done.  It  must  have  been  worth  seeins:.  Old  man 
Nelson's  work  is  not  done  yet.  Tell  me  again," 
and  he  made  me  go  over  the  whole  scene  with  all 
the  details  put  in. 

But  when  I  told  Mrs.  Mavor,  after  two  years 
had  gone,  she  only  said,  "  Old  things  are  passed 
away,  all  things  are  become  new  ;  "  but  the  light 
glowed  in  her  eyes  till  I  could  not  see  their  color. 
But  all  that,  too,  is  another  story. 


256  Black  Rock. 


CHAPTER  XY. 

COMING  TO  THEIR  OWN. 

A  MAN  with  a  conscience  is  often  provoking, 
sometimes  impossible.  Persuasion  is  lost  upon 
him.  He  will  not  get  angry,  and  he  looks  at  one 
with  such  a  faraway  expression  in  his  face  that 
in  striving  to  persuade  him  one  feels  earthly  and 
even  fiendish.  At  least  this  was  my  experience 
with  Craig.  He  spent  a  week  with  me  just  before 
he  sailed  for  the  old  land,  for  the  purpose,  as  he 
said,  of  getting  some  of  the  coal  dust  and  other 
grime  out  of  him. 

He  made  me  angry  the  last  night  of  his  stay, 
rm<l  all  the  more  that  he  remained  quite  sweetly 
unmoved.  It  was  a  strategic  mistake  of  mine  to 
tell  him  how  Nelson  came  home  to  us,  and  how 
Graeme  stood  up  before  'varsity  chaps  at  my  sup- 
per and  made  his  confession  and  confused  Rat- 
tray's easy-stepping  profanity,  and  started  his 
own  five-year  league.  For  all  this  stirred  in  Craig 
the  hero,  and  he  was  ready  for  all  sorts  of  heroic 
nonsense,  as  I  called  it.    We  talked  of  every- 


Black  Rock.  257 

tbing  but  tbe  one  thing,  and  about  that  we  said 
not  a  word  till,  bending  low  to  poke  my  fire  and 
to  hide  my  face,  I  phmged  : 

"  You  will  see  her,  of  course  ?  " 

He  made  no  pretense  of  not  understanding,  but 
answered : 

"  Of  course." 

"  There's  really  no  sense  in  her  staying  over 
there,"  I  suggested. 

"  And  yet  she  is  a  wise  woman,"  he  said,  as  if 
carefully  considering  the  question. 

"Heaps  of  landlords  never  see  their  tenants, 
and  they  are  none  the  worse." 

"  The  landlords  ?  " 

"No— the  tenants." 

"  Probably,  having  such  landlords." 

"  And  as  for  the  old  lady,  there  must  be  some 
one  in  the  connection  to  whom  it  would  be  a 
Godsend  to  care  for  her." 

"  Now,  Connor,"  he  said  quietly,  "  don't.  We 
have  gone  over  all  there  is  to  be  said.  Nothing 
new  has  come.     Don't  turn  it  all  up  again." 

Then  I  played  the  heathen  and  raged,  as 
Graeme  would  have  said,  till  Craig  smiled  a  little 
wearily  and  said : 

"  You  exhaust  yourself,  old  chap.  Have  a  pipe, 
do ; "  and  after  a  pause  he  added  in  his  own  way  : 
"What  v.oLild  rod  have?     The  paiii  lies  straighr 


258  Black  Rock. 

from  my  feet.     Should  I  quit  it  ?    I  could  not  so 

disappoint  you — and  all  of  them." 

And  I  knew  he  was  thinking  of  Graeme  and 
the  lads  in  the  mountains  he  had  taught  to  be  true 
men.  It  did  not  help  my  rage,  but  it  checked  my 
speech ;  so  I  smoked  in  silence  till  he  was  moved 
to  say  : 

"  And  after  all,  you  know,  old  chap,  there  are 
great  compensations  for  all  losses ;  but  for  the  loss 
of  a  good  conscience  toward  God,  what  can  make 
up?" 

But,  all  the  same,  I  hoped  for  some  better  re- 
sult from  his  visit  to  Britain.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  something  must  turn  up  to  change  such  an 
unbearable  situation. 

The  year  passed,  however,  and  when  I  looked 
into  Craig's  face  again  I  knew  that  nothing  had 
been  changed,  and  that  he  had  come  back  to  take 
up  again  his  life  alone,  more  resolutely  hopeful 
than  ever. 

But  the  year  had  left  its  mark  upon  him,  too. 
He  was  a  broader  and  deeper  man.  He  had  been 
living  and  thinking  with  men  of  larger  ideas  and 
richer  culture,  and  he  was  far  too  quick  in  sym- 
pathy with  life  to  remain  untouched  by  his  sur- 
roundings, lie  was  more  tolerant  of  opinions 
other  than  his  own,  but  more  unrelenting  in  his 
fidelity  to  conscience  and  more  impatient  of  half- 


Black  Rock.  259 

hearted n ess  and  self-indulgence.  He  was  full  of 
reverence  for  the  great  scholars  and  the  great 
leaders  of  men  he  had  come  to  know. 

"  Great,  noble  fellows  they  are,  and  extraor- 
dinarily modest,"  he  said — "  that  is,  the  really 
great  are  modest.  There  are  plenty  of  the  other 
sort,  neither  great  nor  modest.  And  the  books 
to  be  read  !  I  am  quite  hopeless  about  my  read- 
ing. It  gave  me  a  queer  sensation  to  shake  hands 
with  a  man  who  had  written  a  great  book.  To 
hear  him  make  commonplace  remarks,  to  witness 
a  faltering  in  knowledge — one  expects  these  men 
to  know  everything — and  to  experience  respect- 
ful kindness  at  his  hands  !  " 

"  What  of  the  younger  men  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Bright,  keen,  generous  fellows.  In  things 
theoretical,  omniscient;  but  in  things  practical, 
quite  helpless.  They  toss  about  great  ideas  as 
the  miners  lumps  of  coal.  They  can  call  them  by 
their  book  names  easily  enough,  but  I  often  won- 
dered whether  they  could  put  them  into  Englisli. 
Some  of  them  I  coveted  for  the  mountains.  Men 
with  clear  heads  and  big  hearts,  and  built  after 
Sandy  M'Naughton's  model.  It  does  seem  a  sin- 
ful waste  of  God's  good  human  stuff  to  see  these 
fellows  potter  away  their  lives  among  theories 
living  and  dead  and  end  up  by  producing  a  book  ! 
They  are  all  either  maldng  or  going  to  make  a 


26o  Black  Rock. 

book.  A  good  thing  we  haven't  to  read  them. 
But  here  and  there  among  them  is  some  quiet 
chap  who  will  make  a  book  that  men  will  tumble 
over  each  other  to  read," 

Then  we  paused  and  looked  at  each  other. 

"  Well  ?  "  I  said. 

He  understood  me. 

"  Yes !  "  he  answered  slowly,  "  doing  great 
work.  Every  one  worships  her  just  as  we  do,  and 
she  is  making  them  all  do  something  worth  while, 
as  she  used  to  make  us." 

He  spoke  cheerfull}''  and  readily,  as  if  he  were 
repeating  a  lesson  well  learned,  but  he  could  not 
humbug  me.  I  felt  the  heartache  in  the  cheerful 
tone. 

"  Tell  me  about  her,"  I  said,  for  I  knew  that  if 
he  would  talk  it  would  do  him  good.  And  talk 
he  did,  often  forgetting  me,  till,  as  I  listened,  I 
found  mvself  lookintj:  a^^ain  into  the  fathomless 
eyes  and  hearing  again  the  heart-searching  voice. 
I  saw  her  go  in  and  out  of  the  little  red-tiled  cot- 
tages and  down  the  narrow  back  lanes  of  the  vil- 
lage ;  I  heard  her  voice  in  a  sweet,  low  song  by 
the  bed  of  a  dying  child,  or  pouring  forth  floods 
of  music  in  the  great  new  hall  of  the  factory  town 
near  by.  But  I  could  not  see,  though  he  tried  to 
show  me,  the  stately,  gracious  lady  receiving  the 
country  folk  in  her  home.     He  did  not  linger  over 


Black  Rock.  261 

that  scene,  but  went  back  again  to  the  gate  cot- 
tage where  she  had  taken  him  one  day  to  see 
Billy  Breen's  mother. 

"  I  found  the  old  woman  knew  all  about  me," 
he  said  simply  enough,  "  but  there  were  many 
things  about  Billy  she  had  never  heard,  and  I  was 
glad  to  put  her  right  on  some  points,  though  Mrs. 
Mavor  would  not  hear  it." 

He  sat  silent  for  a  little,  looking  into  the  coals ; 
then  went  on  in  a  soft,  quiet  voice : 

''  It  brought  back  the  mountains  and  the  old 
days  to  hear  again  Billy's  tones  in  his  mother's 
voice  and  to  see  her  sitting  there  in  the  very 
dress  she  wore  the  night  of  the  league,  you  re- 
member— some  soft  stuff  with  black  lace  about 
it — and  to  hear  her  sing  as  she  did  for  Billy — ah  ! 
ah!" 

His  voice  unexpectedly  broke,  but  in  a  moment 
he  was  master  of  himself  and  begged  me  to  for- 
give his  weakness.  I  am  afraid  I  said  words  that 
should  not  be  said — a  thing  I  never  do,  except 
when  suddenly  and  utterly  upset. 

"  I  am  getting  selfish  and  weak,"  he  said.  "  I 
must  get  to  work.  I  am  glad  to  get  to  work. 
There  is  much  to  do,  and  it  is  worth  while, 
if  only  to  keep  one  from  getting  useless  and 
lazy." 

"  Useless  and  lazy !  "  I  said  to  myself,  thinking 


262  Black  Rock. 

of  my  life  beside  his  and  trying  to  get  command 
of  my  voice,  so  as  not  to  make  quite  a  fool  of  my- 
self. And  for  many  a  day  those  words  goaded 
me  to  work  and  to  the  exercise  of  some  mild  self- 
denial  But  more  than  all  else,  after  Craig  had 
gone  back  to  the  mountains,  Graeme's  letters  from 
the  railroad  construction  camp  stirred  one  to  do 
unpleasant  duty  long  postponed  and  rendered 
uncomfortable  my  hours  of  most  luxurious  ease. 
Many  of  the  old  gang  were  with  him,  both  of 
lumbermen  and  miners,  and  Craig  was  their 
minister.  And  the  letters  told  of  how  he  labored 
by  day  and  by  night  along  the  line  of  construction, 
carrying  his  tent  and  kit  with  him,  preaching 
straight  sermons,  watching  by  sick  men,  writing 
their  letters,  and  winning  their  hearts,  making 
strong  their  lives,  and  helping  them  to  die  well 
when  their  hour  came.  One  day  these  letters 
proved  too  much  for  me,  and  I  ]xicked  away  my 
paints  and  brushes  and  made  my  vow  unto  the 
Lord  that  I  would  be  "  useless  and  lazy "  no 
longer,  but  would  do  something  with  myself. 
In  consequence,  I  found  myself  within  three 
weeks  walking  the  London  hospitals,  finishing  my 
course,  that  I  might  join  that  band  of  men  who 
were  doing  something  with  life,  or,  if  throwing  it 
away,  were  not  losing  it  for  nothing.  I  had 
finished  being  a  fool.  I  hoped,  at  least  a  fool  of 


Black  Rock.  263 

the  useless  and  luxurious  kind.  The  letter  that 
came  from  Graeme,  in  reply  to  my  request  for  a 
position  on  his  staff,  was  characteristic  of  the 
man,  both  new  and  old,  full  of  gayest  humor  and 
of  most  earnest  welcome  to  the  work. 
Mrs.  Mayor's  reply  was  like  herself : 
"  I  knew  3'ou  would  not  long  be  content  with 
the  making  of  pictures,  which  the  world  does  not 
really  need,  and  would  join  your  friends  in  the 
dear  West,  making  lives  that  the  world  needs  so 
sorely." 

But  her  last  words  touched  me  strangely  : 
"But  be  sure  to  be  thankful  every  day  for 
your  privilege.  ...  It  will  be  good  to  think  of 
3^ou  all,  with  the  glorious  mountains  about  you, 
and  Christ's  own  work  in  your  hands.  ...  Ah  ! 
how  we  would  like  to  choose  our  work  and  the 
place  in  w^hich  to  do  it ! " 

The  longing  did  not  appear  in  the  w^ords,  but 
I  needed  no  words  to  tell  me  how  deep  and  how 
constant  it  was.  And  I  take  some  credit  to  my- 
self  that  in  my  reply  I  gave  her  no  bidding  to 
join  our  band,  but  rather  praised  the  work  she 
was  doing  in  her  place,  telling  her  how  I  had 
heard  of  it  from  Craig. 

The  summer  found  me  religiously  doing  Paris 
and  Vienna,  gaining  a  more  perfect  acquair.tance 
with   the  extent   and  variety  of  my  own  iguo- 


264  Black  Rock. 

rance,  and  so  fully  occupied  in  this  interesting  and 
Tvholesome  occupation  that  I  fell  out  with  all 
my  correspondents,  with  the  result  of  weeks  of 
silence  between  us. 

Two  letters  among  the  heap  waiting  on  my 
table  in  London  made  my  heart  beat  quick,  but 
Avith  how  different  feelings  :  one  from  Graeni.j 
telling  me  that  Craig  had  been  very  ill  and  that 
he  was  to  take  him  home  as  soon  as  he  could  be 
moved.  Mrs.  Mavor's  letter  told  me  of  the  death 
of  the  old  lady  who  had  been  her  care  for  the  past 
two  years,  and  of  her  intention  to  spend  some 
months  in  her  old  home  in  Edinburgh.  And  this 
letter  it  is  that  accounts  for  my  presence  in  a 
miserable,  dingy,  dirty  little  hall  running  off  a 
close  in  the  historic  Cowgate,  redolent  of  the 
glories  of  the  splendid  past  and  of  the  various 
odors  of  the  evil-smelling  present.  I  was  there  to 
hear  Mrs.  Mavor  sing  to  the  crowd  of  gamins 
that  thronged  the  closes  in  the  neighborhood  and 
that  had  been  gathered  into  a  club  by  "  a  fine 
leddie  frae  the  West  End,"  for  the  love  of  Christ 
and  His  lost.  This  was  an  "  at  home  "  night,  and 
the  mothers  and  fathers,  sisters  and  brothers,  of 
all  ages  and  sizes,  were  present.  Of  all  the  sad 
faces  I  had  ever  seen,  those  mothers  carried  the 
saddest  and  most  wo-stricken.  "Heaven  pity 
us!  "  I  found  myself  saying.    "  Is  this  the  beau- 


Black  Rock.  265 

tiful,  the  cultured,  the  heaven-exalted  city  of 
Edinburgh  ?  Will  it  not  for  this  be  cast  down  to 
hell  some  day  if  it  repent  not  of  its  closes  and 
their  dens  of  deiilement  ?  Oh!  the  utter  weari- 
ness, the  dazed  hopelessness  of  the  ghastly  faces  1 
Do  not  the  kindly,  gentle  church-going  folk  of 
the  crescents  and  the  gardens  see  them  in  theii 
dreams,  or  are  their  dreams  too  heavenly  for  these 
ghastly  faces  to  appear  ?  " 

I  cannot  recall  the  program  of  the  evening, 
but  in  my  memory  gallery  is  a  vivid  picture  of 
that  face,  sweet,  sad,  beautiful,  alight  with  the 
deep  glow  of  her  eyes  as  she  stood  and  sang  to 
that  dingy  crowd.  As  I  sat  upon  the  window- 
ledge  listening  to  the  voice  with  its  flowing  song, 
my  thoughts  were  far  away,  and  I  was  looking 
down  once  more  upon  the  eager,  coal-grimed 
faces  in  the  rude  little  church  in  Black  Eock.  I 
was  brought  back  to  find  myself  swallowing  hard 
by  an  audible  whisper  from  a  wee  lassie  to  her 
mother : 

"  Mither  !  See  till  yon  man.  He's  greetin'." 
"When  I  came  to  myself  she  was  singing  "  The 
Land  o'  the  Leal,"  the  Scotch  "Jerusalem  the 
Golden,"  immortal,  perfect.  It  needed  experi- 
ence of  the  hunger-haunted  Cowgate  closes,  chill 
with  the  black  mist  of  an  eastern  haar,  to  feeJ 
the  full  bliss  of  the  vision  in  the  words — 


266  Black  Rock. 

**  There's  nae  sorrow  there,  Jean, 
There's  neither  cauld  nor  care,  Jean, 
The  day  is  aye  fair  in 
The  Land  o'  the  Leal." 

A  land  of  fair,  warm  days,  untouched  by  sorrow 
and  care,  would  be  heaven  indeed  to  the  dwellers 
of  the  Cowgate. 

The  rest  of  that  evening  is  hazy  enough  to  me 
now,  till  I  find  myself  opposite  Mrs.  Mavor  at 
her  fire,  reading  Graeme's  letters ;  then  all  is 
vivid  again. 

I  could  not  keep  the  truth  from  her.  I  knew 
it  would  be  folly  to  try.  So  I  read  straight  on  till 
I  came  to  the  words  : 

"  He  has  had  mountain  fever,  whatever  that 
may  be,  and  he  will  not  pull  up  again.  If  I  can 
I  shall  take  him  home  to  my  mother " — when  she 
suddenly  stretched  out  her  hand,  saying,  "  Oh, 
let  me  read  ! "  and  I  gave  her  the  letter.  In  a 
minute  she  had  read  it  and  began  almost  breath- 
lessly ; 

"  Listen  !  My  life  is  much  changed.  My 
mother-in-law  is  gone  ;  she  needs  me  no  longer. 
My  solicitor  tells  me,  too,  that  owing  to  unfor- 
tunate investments  there  is  need  of  money,  so  great 
need  that  it  is  possible  that  either  the  estates  or 
the  works  must  go.  My  cousin  has  his  all  in 
the  works — iron  works,  you  know.     It  would  b* 


Black  Rock.  267 

wrong  to  have  him  suffer.  I  shall  give  up  the 
estates — that  is  the  best." 

She  paused. 

"  And  come  with  me  !  "  I  cried. 

"  When  do  you  sail  ?  " 

"  Next  week,"  I  answered  eagerly. 

She  looked  at  me  a  few  moments,  and  into  her 
eyes  there  came  a  light  soft  and  tender  as  she 
said  : 

"  I  shall  go  with  you." 

And  so  she  did  ;  and  no  old  Roman  in  all  the 
glory  of  a  triumph  carried  a  prouder  heart  than 
I  as  I  bore  her  and  her  little  one  from  the  train 
to  Graeme's  carriage,  crying  : 

"  I've  got  her  !  " 

But  his  was  the  better  sense,  for  he  stood 
Avaving  his  hat  and  shouting,  "  He's  all  right,"  at 
which  Mrs.  Mavor  grew  AvhiLe  ;  but  when  she 
shook  hands  with  him  the  red  was  in  her  cheek 
again. 

"  It  was  the  cable  did  it,"  went  on  Graeme. 
"  Connor's  a  great  doctor!  Ilis  first  case  will 
make  him  famous.  Good  prescription — after 
mountain  fever  try  a  cablegram  !  " 

And  the  red  grew  deeper  in  the  beautiful  face 
beside  us. 

Never  did  the  country  look  so  lovely.  The 
woods  were  in  tlieir  gayest   autumn  dress ;  the 


268  Black  Rock. 

brown  fields  were  bathed  in  a  purple  haze ;  thei 
ah-  was  sweet  and  fresh  with  a  suspicion  of  the 
coming  frosts  of  winter.  But  in  spite  of  all 
the  road  seemed  long,  and  it  was  as  if  hours  had 
gone  before  our  eyes  fell  upon  the  white  manse 
standing  among  the  golden  leaves. 

"  Let  them  go !  "  I  cried  as  Graeme  paused  to 
take  in  the  view,  and  down  the  sloping  dusty  road 
we  flew  on  the  dead  run. 

"Keminds  one  a  little  of  Abe's  curves,"  said 
Graeme  as  we  drew  up  at  the  gate.  But  I  an- 
swered  him  not,  for  I  was  introducing  to  each 
other  the  two  best  women  in  the  world.  As  I 
was  about  to  rush  into  the  house  Graeme  seized 
me  by  the  collar,  saying  : 

"Hold  on,  Connor!  You  forget  your  place. 
You're  next." 

"  Why,  certainly,"  I  cried,  thankfully  enough. 
"  "What  an  ass  I  am ! " 

"  Quite  true,"  said  Graeme  solemnly. 

"  Where  is  he  ? "  I  asked. 

"  At  this  present  moment  ? "  he  asked  in  a 
shocked  voice.    "  Why,  Connor,  you  surprise  me." 

"  Oh,  I  see." 

"  Yes,"  he  went  on  gravely,  "  you  may  trust 
my  mother  to  be  discreetly  attending  to  her 
domestic  duties.  She  is  a  great  woman,  my 
mother." 


Black  Rockc  269 

I  had  no  doubt  of  it,  for  at  that  moment  she 
came  out  to  us  with  little  Marjorie  in   her  arras. 

"  Yes,"  he  went  on  gravely,  "  you  may  trust 
my  mother,  I  hope,"  said  Graeme ;  but  she  only 
smiled  and  said  : 

"  Run  away  with  your  horses,  you  silly  boj''," 
at  which  he  solemnly  shook  his  head. 

"  Ah,  mother,  you  are  deep — who  would  have 
thought  it  of  you  ? " 

That  evening  the  manae  overflowed  with  joy, 
and  the  days  that  followed  were  like  dreams  set 
to  sweet  music. 

But  for  sheer  wild  delight,  nothing  in  my 
memory  can  quite  come  up  to  the  demonstration 
organized  by  Graeme,  with  assistance  from  Nixon, 
Shaw,  Sandy,  Abe,  Geordie,  and  Baptiste,  in 
honor  of  the  arrival  in  camp  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Craig.  And,  in  my  opinion,  it  added  something  to 
the  occasion  that  after  all  the  cheers  for  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Craig  had  died  away,  and  after  all  the  hats 
had  come  down,  Baptiste,  who  had  never  taken 
his  eyes  from  that  radiant  face,  should  suddenly 
have  swept  the  crowd  into  a  perfect  storm  of 
cheers  by  excitedly  seizing  his  toque  and  calling 
out  in  his  shrill  voice  : 

"  By  gar  !  tree  cheer  for  Mrs.  Mavor  !  " 

And  for  many  a  day  the  men  of  Black  Rock  I 
would  easily  fall  into  the  old  and   well  ioved 


270  Black  Rock. 

name  ;  but  up  and  down  the  line  of  construction, 
in  all  the  camps  beyond  the  Great  Divide,  the 
new  name  became  as  dear  as  the  old  had  ever 
been  in  Black  Rock. 

Those  old  wild  daj's  are  long  since  gone  into 
the  dim  distance  of  the  past.  They  will  not 
come  again,  for  we  have  fallen  into  quiet  times  ; 
but  often  in  my  quietest  hours  I  feel  my  heart 
pause  in.  its  beat  to  hear  again  that  strong,  clear 
voice,  like  the  sound  of  a  trumpet,  bidding  us 
to  be  men  ;  and  I  think  of  them  all — Graeme, 
their  chief,  Sandy,  Baptiste,  Geordie,  Abe,  the 
Campbells,  Nixon,  Shaw,  all  stronger,  better  for 
their  knowing  of  him,  and  then  I  think  of  Billy 
asleep  under  the  pines,  and  of  old  man  Nelson 
with  the  long  grass  waving  over  him  in  the  quiet 
churchyard,  and  all  my  nonsense  loaves  me,  and 
I  bless  the  Lord  for  all  His  benefits,  but  chiefly 
for  the  day  I  met  the  missionary  of  Black  Rock 
in  the  lumber  camp  among  the  Selkirks. 


Ethan  Brand.  271 


ETHAiq-  BKAND. 

Baeteam^  the  lime-bumer,  a  rough,  heavy- 
looking  man,  begrimed  with  charcoal,  sat  watching 
his  kiln  at  nightfall,  while  his  little  son  played 
at  building  houses  with  the  scattered  fragments  of 
marble,  when,  on  the  hill-side  below  them,  they 
heard  a  roar  of  laughter,  not  mirthful,  but  slow 
and  even  solemn,  like  a  wind  shaking  the  boughs 
of  the  forest. 

"  Father,  what  is  that  ?  "  asked  the  little  boy, 
leaving  his  play  and  pressing  betwixt  his  father's 
knees. 

"  Oh,  some  drunken  man,  I  suppose,"  answered 
the  lime-burner ;  "  some  merry  fellow  from  the 
bar-room  in  the  village,  who  dared  not  laugh  loud 
enough  within  doors,  lest  he  should  blow  the  roof 
of  the  house  off.  So  here  he  is,  shaking  his  jolly 
sides  at  the  foot  of  Graylock." 

"  But,  fatber,"  said  the  child,  more  sensitive 
than  the  obtuse,  middle-aged  cIo^ti,  "  he  does  not 


272  Black  Rock. 

laugli  like  a  man  tliat  is  glad.  So  the  noise  friglit- 
ens  me !  " 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,  child !  "  cried  the  father 
gruffly.  "  You  will  never  make  a  man,  I  do  be- 
lieve :  there  is  too  much  of  your  mother  in  you.  I 
have  known  the  rustling  of  a  leaf  to  startle  you! 
Hark !  Here  comes  the  merry  fellow  now.  You 
shall  see  that  there  is  no  harm  in  him." 

Bartram  and  his  little  son,  while  they  were 
talking  thus,  sat  watching  the  same  lime-kiln  that 
"had  been  the  scene  of  Ethan  Brand's  solitary  and 
meditative  life  before  he  began  his  search  for  the 
Unpardonable  Sin.  Many  years,  as  we  have  seen, 
had  now  elapsed  since  that  portentous  night  when 
the  Idea  was  first  developed.  The  kiln,  however, 
on  the  mountain-side  stood  unimpaired,  and  w^as 
in  nothing  changed  since  he  had  thrown  his  dark 
thoughts  into  the  intense  glow  of  its  furnace,  and 
melted  them,  as  it  were,  into  the  one  thought  tliat 
took  possession  of  his  life.  It  was  a  rude,  round, 
tower-like  structure,  about  twenty  feet  high,  heav- 
ily built  of  rough  stones,  and  with  a  hillock  of  earthi 
heaped  about  the  larger  part  of  its  circumference, 
so  that  the  blocks  and  fragments  of  marlole  might 
be  drawn  by  cart-loads  and  thrown  in  at  the  top. 
There  was  an  opening  at  the  bottom  of  the  tower, 


Ethan  Brand.  273 

lit«  an  oven-moutli,  but  large  enougli  to  admit  a 
man  in  a  stooping  posture,  and  provided  with  a 
massive  iron  door.  With  the  smoke  and  jets  of 
flame  issuing  from  the  chinks  and  crevices  of  this 
door,  which  seemed  to  give  admittance  into  the 
hill-side,  it  resembled  nothing  so  much  as  the  pri- 
vate entrance  to  the  infernal  regions  which  the 
shepherds  of  the  Delectable  Mountains  were  ac- 
customed to  show  to  pilgrims. 

There  are  many  such  lime-kilns  in  that  tract  of 
country  for  the  purpose  of  burning  the  white 
marble  which  composes  a  large  part  of  the  sub- 
stance of  the  hills.  Some  of  them,  built  years  ago 
and  long  deserted,  with  weeds  growing  in  the  va- 
cant round  of  the  interior,  which  is  open  to  the 
sky,  and  grass  and  wild  flowers  rooting  themselves 
into  the  chinks  of  the  stones,  look  already  like 
relics  of  antiquity,  and  may  yet  be  overspread  with 
the  lichens  of  centuries  to  come.  Others,  where 
the  lime-burner  still  feeds  his  daily  and  night- 
long fire,  afford  points  of  interest  to  the  wanderer 
among  the  hills,  who  seats  himself  on  a  log  of 
wood  or  a  fragment  of  marble  to  hold  a  chat  with 
the  solitary  man.  It  is  a  lonesome  and,  when  the 
character  is  inclined  to  thought,  may  he  an  in- 
tensely thoughtful  occupation,  as  it  proved  iu 
18 


274  Black  Rock. 

the  case  of  EtLan  Brand,  who  had  TnTised  to  sncK 
strange  purpose  in  days  gone  by  while  the  fire  in 
this  very  kiln  was  burning. 

The  man  who  now  watched  the  fire  was  of  a 
different  order,  and  troubled  himself  with  no 
thoughts  save  the  very  few  that  were  requisite  to 
his  business.  At  frequent  intervals  he  fiung  back 
the  clashing  weight  of  the  iron  door,  and,  turning 
his  face  from  the  insufferable  glare,  thrust  in  huge 
logs  of  oak  or  stirred  the  immense  brands  with  a 
long  pole.  Within  the  furnace  were  seen  the  curl- 
ing and  riotous  flames  and  the  burning  marble, 
almost  molten  with  the  intensity  of  heat,  while 
without  the  reflection  of  the  fire  quivered  on  the 
dark  intricacy  of  the  surrounding  forest,  and 
showed  in  the  foreground  a  bright  and  ruddy  little 
picture  of  the  hut,  the  spring  beside  its  door,  the 
athletic  and  coal-begrimed  figure  of  the  lime- 
burner,  and  the  haJf-frightened  child  shrinking 
into  the  protection  of  his  father's  shadow.  And 
when  again  the  iron  door  was  closed,  then  reap- 
peared the  tender  light  of  the  half-full  moon, 
which  vainly  strove  to  trace  out  the  indiscinct 
shapes  of  the  neighboring  mountains;  and  in  the 
^(^fper  sky  there  was  a  flitting  congregation  of 
clouds,  still  faintly  tinged  with  the  rosy  sunset, 


Kthan  Brand.  275 

though  thus  far  down  into  the  valley  the  sun- 
shine had  vanished  long  and  long  ago. 

The  little  boy  now  crept  still  closer  to  his 
father  as  footsteps  were  heard  ascending  the  hill- 
side, and  a  human  fonn  thrust  aside  the  bushes 
that  clustered  beneath  the  trees. 

"  Halloo !  who  is  it  ?  "  cried  the  lime-burner, 
vexed  at  his  son's  timidity,  yet  half  infected  by 
it.  "  Come  forward  and  show  yourself  like  a  man, 
or  I'll  fling  this  chunk  of  marble  at  your  head." 

"  You  offer  me  a  rough  welcome,"  said  a 
gloomy  voice  as  the  unknown  man  drew  nigh. 
"  Yet  I  neither  claim  nor  desire  a  kinder  one,  even 
at  my  own  fireside." 

To  obtain  a  distincter  view  Bai*tram  threw 
open  the  iron  door  of  the  kiln,  whence  immedi- 
ately issued  a  gush  of  fierce  light  that  smote 
full  upon  the  stranger's  face  and  figure.  To  a 
careless  eye  there  appeared  nothing  very  remark- 
able in  his  aspect,  which  was  that  of  a  man  in  a 
coarse  brown  country-made  suit  of  clothes,  tall 
and  thin,  with  the  staff  and  heavy  shoes  of  a  way- 
farer. As  he  advanced  he  fixed  his  eyes,  which 
were  very  bright,  intently  upon  the  brightness  of 
the  furnace,  as  if  he  beheld,  or  expected  to  behold, 
some  object  worthy  of  note-within  it. 


276  Black  Rock. 

"  Grood-evening,  stranger,"  said  tie  lime- 
burner;    "  whence  come  you  so  late  in  the  day? " 

"  I  come  from  my  search,"  answered  the  way- 
farer; "for,  at  last,  it  is  finished." 

"  Drunk ! — or  crazy !  "  muttered  Bartram  to 
himself.  "  I  shall  have  trouble  with  the  fellow. 
The  sooner  I  drive  him  away  the  better." 

The  little  boy,  all  in  a  tremble,  whispered  to  his 
father  and  begged  him  to  shut  the  door  of  the 
kiln,  so  that  there  might  not  be  so  much  light,  for 
that  there  was  something  in  the  man's  face  which 
he  was  afraid  to  look  at,  yet  could  not  look  away 
from.  And,  indeed,  even  the  lime-burner's  dull 
and  torpid  sense  began  to  be  impressed  by  an  in- 
describable something  in  that  thin,  rugged, 
thoughtful  visage  with  the  grizzled  hair  hanging 
wildly  about  it,  and  those  deeply-sunken  eyes 
which  gleamed  like  fires  within  the  entrance  of  a 
mysterious  cavern.  But  as  he  closed  the  door 
the  stranger  turned  toward  him  and  spoke  in  a 
quiet,  familiar  way  that  made  Bartram  feel  as  if 
he  were  a  sane  and  sensible  man  after  all. 

"  Your  task  draws  to  an  end,  I  see,"  said  he. 
*'  This  marble  has  already  been  burning  three 
days.  A  few  hours  more  will  convert  the  stone 
to  lime." 


Ethan  Brand.  277 

*'  Whj,  who  are  jou  ? "  exclaimed  tLe  lime- 
burner.  "  You  seem  as  well  acquainted  with  my 
business  as  I  am  myself." 

"  And  well  I  may  be,"  said  the  stranger,  "  for 
I  followed  the  same  craft  many  a  long  year,  and 
here,  too,  on  this  very  spot.  But  you  are  a  new- 
comer in  these  parts.  Did  you  never  hear  of 
Ethan  Brand  ?  " 

"  The  man  that  went  in  search  of  the  Unpar- 
donable Sin  ? "  asked  Baj*tram  with  a  laugh. 

"  The  same,"  answered  the  stranger.  "  He  has 
found  what  he  sought,  and  therefore  he  comes 
back  again." 

"  "What !  then  you  are  Ethan  Brand  himself  ?  " 
cried  the  lime-burner  in  amazement.  "  I  am  a 
newcomer  here,  as  you  say,  and  they  call  it  eight- 
een years  since  you  left  the  foot  of  Graylock. 
But,  I  can  tell  you,  the  good  folks  still  talk  about 
Ethan  Brand  in  the  village  yonder,  and  wliat  a 
strange  errand  took  him  away  from  his  lime-kiln. 
Well,  and  so  you  have  found  the  Unpardonable 
Sin?" 

"  Even  so,"  said  the  stranger,  calmly. 

"  If  the  question  is  a  fair  one,"  proceeded  Bar- 
tram,  "  where  might  it  be  ?  " 

Ethan  Brand  laid  his  finger  on  his  own  heart 


278  Black  Rock. 

'^  Here !  "  replied  he. 

And  then,  witliout  mirth  in  his  countenance, 
but  as  if  moved  by  an  involuntary  recognition  of 
the  infinite  absurdity  of  seeking  throughout  the 
world  for  what  was  the  closest  of  all  tilings  to 
himself,  and  looking  into  every  heart  save  his  own 
for  what  was  hidden  in  no  other  breast,  he  broke 
into  a  laugh  of  scorn.  It  was  the  same  slow, 
heavy  laugh  that  had  almost  appalled  the  lime- 
burner  when  it  heralded  the  wayfarer's  approach. 

The  solitary  mountain-side  was  made  dismal  by 
it.  Laughter,  when  out  of  place,  mistimed,  or 
bursting  forth  from  a  disordered  state  of  feeling, 
may  be  the  most  terrible  modulation  of  the  human 
voice.  The  laughter  of  one  asleep,  even  if  it  be 
a  little  child,  the  madman's  laugh,  the  wild, 
screaming  laugh  of  a  born  idiot,  are  sounds  tliat 
we  sometimes  tremble  to  hear  and  would  always 
willingly  forget.  Poets  have  imagined  no  utter- 
ance of  fiends  or  hobgoblins  so  fearfully  appropri- 
ate as  a  laugh.  And  even  the  obtuse  limienburner 
felt  his  nerv^es  shaken  as  this  strange  man  looked 
inward  at  his  own  heart  and  burst  into  laughter 
that  rolled  away  into  the  night  and  was  indis- 
tinctly reverberated  among  the  hills. 

"  Joe,"   said   he   to   his   little   son,    "  scamper 


Ethan  Brand.  279 

down  to  tlie  tavern  in  the  village,  and  tell  the 
jollj  fellov^s  there  that  Ethan  Brand  has  come 
back,  and  that  he  has  found  the  Unpaj-donable 
Sin." 

The  boy  darted  away  on  his  errand,  to  which 
Ethan  Brand  made  no  objection^  nor  seemed 
hardly  to  notice  it.  He  sat  on  a  log  of  wood, 
looking  steadfastly  at  the  iron  door  of  the  kiln. 
When  the  child  was  out  of  sight,  and  his  swift 
and  light  footsteps  ceased  to  be  heard  treading 
first  on  the  fallen  leaves  and  then  on  the  rocky 
mountain-path,  the  lime-burner  began  to  regret 
his  departure.  He  felt  that  the  little  fellow's 
presence  had  been  a  barrier  between  his  guest  and 
himself,  and  that  he  must  now  deal,  lieart  to  heart, 
with  a  man  who,  on  his  own  confession,  had  com- 
mitted the  one  only  crime  for  which  Heaven  could 
afford  no  mercy.  That  crime,  in  its  indistinct 
blackness,  seemed  to  overshadow  him.  The  lime- 
burner's  own  sins  rose  up  within  him,  and  made 
his  memory  riotous  with  a  throng  of  evil  shapes 
that  asserted  their  kindred  with  the  Master  Sin, 
whatever  it  might  be,  which  it  was  within  the 
scope  of  man's  corrupted  nature  to  conceive  and 
cherish.  They  were  all  of  one  family ;  they  went 
to  and  fro  between  his  breast  and  Ethan  Brand's, 
and  carried  dark  greetings  from  one  to  the  other. 


28o  Black  Rock. 

Then  Bartram  remembered  the  stories  which 
had  gro^vn  traditionary  in  reference  to  this  strange 
man  who  had  come  upon  him  like  a  shadow  of  the 
night,  and  was  making  himself  at  home  in  his  old 
place  after  so  long  absence  that  the  dead  people, 
dead  and  buried  for  years,  would  have  had  more 
right  to  be  at  home  in  any  familiar  spot  than  he. 
Ethan  Brand,  it  was  said,  had  conversed  with 
Satan  himself  in  the  lurid  blaze  of  this  very  kiln. 
The  legend  had  been  matter  of  mirth  heretofore, 
but  looked  grisly  now.  According  to  this  tale, 
before  Ethan  Brand  departed  on  his  search  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  evoke  a  fiend  from  the  hot  fur- 
nace of  the  lime-kiln,  night  after  night,  in  order  to 
confer  with  him  about  the  Unpardonable  Sin,  tlie 
man  and  the  fiend  each  laboring  to  frame  the  im- 
age of  some  mode  of  guilt  which  could  neither  be 
atoned  for  nor  forgiven.  And  with  the  first  gleam 
of  light  upon  the  mountain-top  the  fiend  crept  in 
at  the  iron  door,  there  to  abide  the  intensest  ele- 
ment of  fire  until  again  summoned  forth  to  share 
in  the  dreadful  task  of  extending  man's  possible 
guilt  beyond  the  scope  of  Heaven's  else  infinite 
mercy. 

While  the  lime-burner  was  struggling  with  the 
torror  of  these  thoughts  Ethan  Brand  rose  from 


Ethan  Brand.  281 

the  log  and  flung  open  the  door  of  the  kiln.  The 
action  was  in  such  ac-cordimce  with  the  idea  in 
Bartram's  mind  that  he  almost  expected  to  see  the 
Evil  One  issue  forth  red  hot  from  the  raging  fur- 
nace. 

"  Hold !  hold !  "  cried  he,  with  a  tremulous 
attempt  to  laugh,  for  he  was  ashamed  of  his  fears, 
although  thej  overmastered  him.  "  Don't,  for 
mercy's  sake,  bring  out  your  devil  now !  " 

"  Man !  "  sternly  replied  Ethan  Brand,  "  what 
need  have  I  of  the  devil  ?  I  have  left  him  behind 
me,  on  my  track.  It  is  with  such  half-way  sinners 
as  you  that  he  busies  himself.  Eear  not  because 
I  open  the  door.  I  do  but  act  by  old  custom,  and 
am  going  to  trim  your  fire,  like  a  lime-burner  as 
I  was  once." 

He  stirred  the  vast  coals,  thrust  in  more  wood, 
and  bent  forward  to  gaze  into  the  hollow  prison- 
house  of  the  fire,  regardless  of  the  fierce  glow  that 
reddened  upon  his  face.  The  lime-burner  sat 
watching  hdm,  and  half  suspected  his  strange 
guest  of  a  purpose,  if  not  to  evoke  a  fiend,  at 
least  to  plunge  bodily  into  the  flames  and  thus 
vanish  from  the  sight  of  man.  Ethan  Brand, 
however,  drew  quietly  back  and  closed  the  door  of 
the  kiln. 


282  Black  Rock. 

"  I  have  looked,"  said  he,  "  into  many  a  human 
heart  that  was  seven  times  hotter  with  sinful  pas- 
sions than  yonder  furnace  is  with  fire.  But  I 
found  not  there  what  I  sought.  ISTo,  not  the  Un- 
pardonable Sin !  " 

"  ^Vhat  is  the  Unpardonable  Sin  ?  "  asked  the 
lime-burner ;  and  then  he  shrank  further  from  his 
companion,  trembling  lest  his  question  should  be 
answered. 

"It  is  a  sin  tliat  grew  within  my  own  breast," 
replied  Ethan  Brand,  standing  ereet  with  a  pride 
that  distinguishes  all  enthusiasts  of  his  stamp. 
''  A  sin  that  grew  nowhere  else !  The  sin  of  an 
intellect  that  triumphed  over  the  sense  of  brother- 
hood with  man  and  reverence  for  God,  and  sacri- 
ficed everything  to  its  own  mighty  claims!  The 
only  sin  that  deserves  a  recompense  of  immortal 
agony!  Freely,  were  it  to  do  again,  would  I  in- 
cur the  guilt.  Unshrinkingly  I  accept  the  retri- 
bution !  " 

"  The  man's  head  is  turned,"  muttered  the  lime- 
burner  to  himself.  "  He  may  be  a  sinner  like  the 
rest  of  us — nothing  more  likely — but,  I'll  be 
sworn,  he  is  a  madman  too." 

Nevertheless,  he  felt  uncomfortable  at  his  situ- 
ation alone  with  Ethan  Brand  on  the  wild  moun- 


Ethan  Brand,  283 

tain-side,  and  was  right  glad  to  liear  the  rougli 
murmur  of  tongues  and  the  footsteps  of  what 
seemed  a  pretty  numerous  party  stumbling  over 
the  stones  and  rustling  through  the  underbrush. 
Soon  appeared  the  whole  lazy  regiment  that  was 
wont  to  infest  the  village  tavern,  comprehending 
three  or  four  individuals  who  had  drunk  flip  be- 
side the  bar-room  fire  through  all  the  winters,  and 
smoked  their  pipes  beneath  the  stoop  through  all 
the  summers,  since  Ethan  Brand's  departure. 
Laughing  boisterously,  and  mingling  all  their 
voices  together  in  unceremonious  talk,  they  now 
burst  into  the  moonshine  and  narrow  streaks  of 
fire-light  that  illuminated  the  open  space  before 
the  lime-kiln.  Bartram  set  the  door  ajar  again, 
flooding  the  spot  with  light,  that  the  whole  com- 
pany might  get  a  fair  view  of  Ethan  Brand,  an-d 
he  of  them. 

There,  among  other  old  acquaintances,  was  a 
once^ubiquitous  man,  now  almost  extinct,  but 
whom  we  were  formerly  sure  to  encounter  at  the 
hotel  of  every  thriving  village  throughout  the 
country.  It  was  the  stage-agent.  The  present 
specimen  of  the  genus  was  a  wilted  and  smoke- 
dried  man,  wrinkled  and  red-nosed,  in  a  smartly- 
cut  brown  bob-tailed  coat  with  brass  buttone,  who 


284  Black  Rock. 

for  a  length  of  time  unknown  liad  kept  his  desk 
and  corner  in  the  bar-room,  and  was  still  puffing 
what  seemed  to  he  the  same  cigar  that  he  had 
lighted  twenty  years  before.  He  had  great  fame 
as  a  dry  joker,  though,  perhaps,  less  on  account  of 
any  intrinsic  humor  than  from  a  certain  flavor  of 
brandy-toddy  and  tobacco  smoke  which  impreg- 
nated all  his  ideas  and  expressions,  as  well  as 
his  person.  Another  well-remembered  though 
strangely-altered  face  was  that  of  Lawyer  Giles, 
as  people  still  called  him  in  courtesy — an  elderly 
ragamuffin  in  his  soiled  shirt-sleeves  and  tow-cloth 
trousers.  This  poor  fellow  had  been  an  attorney 
in  what  he  called  his  better  days,  a  sharp  prac- 
titioner, and  in  great  vogue  am-ong  the  village  liti- 
gants; but  flip  and  sling  and  toddy  and  cocktails 
imbibed  at  all  hours,  morning,  noon,  and  night, 
had  caused  him  to  slide  from  intellectual  to  va- 
rious kinds  and  degrees  of  bodily  labor,  till  at  last, 
to  adopt  his  own  phrase,  he  slid  into  a  soap-vat. 
In  other  words,  Giles  was  now^  a  soap-boiler  in  a 
small  way.  He  had  come  to  be  but  the  fragment 
of  a  human  being,  a  part  of  one  foot  having  been 
chopped  off  by  an  axe,  and  an  entire  hand  torn 
away  by  the  devilish  grip  of  a  steam-engine.  Yet, 
though  the  corporeal  hand  was  gone,  a  spiritual 


Ethan  Brand.  285 

memLer  remained;  for,  stretching  fortli  the 
stump,  Giles  steadfastly  averred  that  he  felt  an 
invisible  thumb  and  fingers  with  as  vivid  a  sen- 
sation as  before  the  real  ones  were  amputated.  A 
maimed  and  miserable  wretch  he  was,  but  one, 
nevertheless,  vv^hom  the  world  could  not  trample 
on,  and  had  no  right  to  scorn,  either  in  this  or 
any  previous  stage  of  his  misfortunes,  since  he 
had  still  kept  up  the  courage  and  spirit  of  a  man, 
asked  nothing  in  charity,  and  with  his  one  hand — 
and  that  the  left  one — fought  a  stern  battle 
against  want  and  kostile  circumstances. 

Among  the  throng,  too,  came  another  personage, 
who,  with  certain  points  of  similarity  to  Lawyer 
Giles,  had  many  more  of  difference.  It  was  the 
village  doctor,  a  man  of  some  fifty  years,  whom, 
at  an  earlier  period  of  his  life,  we  introduced  as 
paying  a  professional  visit  to  Ethan  Brand,  during 
the  latter's  supposed  insanity.  He  was  now  a 
purple-visaged,  rude  and  brutal,  yet  half-gentle- 
manly figure,  with  something  wild,  ruined,  and 
desperate  in  his  talk  and  in  all  the  details  of  his 
gesture  and  manners.  Brandy  possessed  this  man 
like  an  evil  spirit,  and  made  him  as  surly  and  sav- 
age as  a  wild  beast  and  as  miserable  as  a  lost  soul ; 
but  there  was  supposed  to  be  in  him  such  wonder- 


286  Black  Rock. 

ful  skill,  such  native  gifts  of  healing,  beyond  any 
which  medical  science  could  impart,  that  society 
caught  hold  of  him  and  would  not  let  him  sink 
out  of  its  reach.  So,  swaying  to  and  fro  upon  his 
horse  and  grumbling  thick  accents  at  the  bedside, 
he  visited  all  the  sick-chambers  for  miles  about 
among  the  mountain-towns,  and  sometimes  raised 
a  dying  man,  as  it  were,  by  miracle,  or  quite  as 
often,  no  doubt,  sent  his  patient  to  a  grave  that 
was  dug  many  a  year  too  soon.  The  doctor  had  an 
everlasting  pipe  in  his  mouth,  and,  as  somebody 
said,  in  allusion  to  his  habit  of  swearing,  it  was 
always  alight  with  hell-fire. 

These  three  worthies  pressed  forward  and 
greeted  Ethan  Brand  each  after  his  own  fashion, 
earnestly  inviting  him  to  partake  of  the  contents 
of  a  certain  black  bottle,  in  which,  as  they  averred, 
he  would  find  something  far  better  worth  seeking 
for  than  the  Unpardonable  Sin.  No  mind  which 
has  wrought  itself  by  intense  and  solitary  medi- 
tation into  a  high  state  of  enthusiasm  can  endure 
the  kind  of  contact  with  low  and  vulgar  modes  of 
thought  and  feeling  to  which  Ethan  Brand  was 
now  subjected.  It  made  him  doubt — and,  strange 
to  say,  it  was  a  painful  doubt' — whether  he  had  in- 
deed found  the  Unpardonable  Sin,  and  found  it 


Ethan  Brand.  287 

wittin  himself.  The  whole  question  on  which  he 
had  exhausted  life,  and  more  than  life,  looked  like 
a  delusion. 

"  Leave  me,"  he  said  bitterly,  "  ye  brute  beasts, 
that  have  made  yourselves  so,  shrivelling  up  your 
souls  with  ^erj  liquors!  I  have  done  with  you. 
Years  and  years  ago  I  groped  into  your  hearts, 
and  found  nothing  there  for  my  purpose.  Get  ye 
gone !  " 

"  Why,  you  uncivil  scoundrel !  "  cried  the  fierce 
doctor,  "  is  that  the  way  you  respond  to  the  kind- 
ness of  your  best  friends  ?  Then  let  me  tell  you 
the  truth.  You  have  no  more  found  the  Unpar- 
donable Sin  than  yonder  boy  Joe  has.  You  are 
but  a  crazy  fellow — I  told  you  so  twenty  years 
ago — neither  better  nor  worse  than  a  crazy  fel- 
low, and  the  fit  companion  of  old  Humphrey 
here!" 

He  pointed  to  an  old  man,  shabbily  dressed, 
with  long  white  hair,  thin  visage,  and  unsteady 
eyes.  For  some  years  past  this  aged  person  had 
been  wandering  about  among  the  hills,  inquiring 
of  all  travellers  whom  he  met  for  his  daughter. 
The  girl,  it  seemed,  had  gone  off  with  a  company 
of  circus  performers,  and  occasionally  tidings  of 
her  came  to  the  village,  and  fine  stories  were  told 
of  her  glittering  appearance  as  &he  rode  on  horse- 


288  Black  Rock. 

back  in  the  ring  or  performed  marvellous  feats 
on  the  tiglit-rope. 

The  white-haired  father  now  approached  Ethan 
Brand  and  gazed  unsteadily  into  his  face. 

"  They  tell  me  you  have  been  all  over  the 
earth,"  said  he,  wringing  his  hands  with  earnest- 
ness. "  You  must  have  seen  my  daughter,  for  she 
makes  a  grand  figure  in  the  world  and  everybody 
goes  to  see  her.  Did  she  send  any  word  to  her  old 
father,  or  say  when  she  was  coming  back  ?  " 

Ethan  Brand's  eye  quailed  beneath  the  old 
man's.  That  daughter  from  whom  he  so  earnest- 
ly desired  a  word  of  greeting  was  the  Esther  of 
our  tale,  the  very  girl  whom,  with  such  cold  and 
remorseless  purpose,  Ethan  Brand  had  made  the 
subject  of  a  psychological  experiment,  and  wasted, 
absorbed,  and  perhaps  annihilated  her  soul  in  the 
process. 

"  Yes,"  murmured  he,  turning  away  from  the 
hoary  wanderer,  "  it  is  no  delusion.  There  is  an 
Unpardonable  Sin !  " 

While  these  things  were  passing  a  merry  scene 
was  going  foi-w^ard  in  the  area  of  cheerful  light 
beside  the  spring  and  before  the  door  of  the  hut. 
A  number  of  the  youth  of  the  village,  young  men 
and  girls,  had  hurried  up  the  hill-side,  impelled 


Ethan  Brand.  289 

by  curiosity  to  see  Etlian  Brand,  tlic  hero  of  so 
many  a  legend  familiar  to  their  childhood.  Find- 
ing nothing,  however,  very  remarkable  in  his  as- 
pect— nothing  but  a  sun-burnt  wayfarer,  in  plain 
garb  and  dusty  shoes,  who  sat  looking  into  the  fire 
as  if  he  fancied  pictures  among  the  coals — these 
young  people  speedily  grew  tired  of  observing 
him.  As  it  happened,  there  was  other  amusement 
at  hand.  An  old  German  Jew,  travelling  with,  a 
diorama  on  his  back,  was  passing  down  the  moun- 
tain-road toward  the  village  just  as  the  party 
turned  aside  from  it,  and  in  hopes  of  eking  out  the 
profits  of  the  day  the  showman  had  kept  them 
company  to  the  lime-kiln. 

"  Come,  old  Dutchman,"  cried  one  of  the  joung 
men,  "  let  us  see  your  pictures,  if  you  can  swear 
they  are  worth  looking  at." 

"  Oh  yes,  captain,"  answered  the  Jew — whether 
as  a  matter  of  courtesy  or  craft,  he  styled  every- 
body "  captain  " — "  I  shall  show  you,  indeed, 
some  very  superb  pictures." 

So,  placing  his  box  in  a  proper  position,  he  in- 
vited the  young  men  and  girls  to  look  through  tlie 
glass  orifices  of  the  machine,  and  proceeded  to  ex- 
hibit a  series  of  the  most  outrageous  scratchings 
and  daubings  as  specimens  of  the  fine  arts  that 
19 


290  Black  Rock. 

ever  an  itinerant  sliowman  had  the  face  to  impose 
upon  his  circle  of  spectators.  The  pictures  were 
worn  out,  moreover,  tattered,  full  of  cracks  and 
wrinkles,  dingy  with  tobacco-smoke,  and  otherwise 
in  a  most  pitiable  condition.  Some  purported  to 
be  cities,  public  edifices,  and  ruined  castles  in 
Europe ;  otliers  represented  Xapoleon's  battles  and 
[Nelson's  sea-fights;  and  in  the  midst  of  these 
would  be  seen  a  gigantic  brown  hairy  hand — 
which  might  have  been  mistaken  for  the  Hand  of 
Destiny,  though,  in  truth,  it  was  only  the  show- 
man's— pointing  its  forefinger  to  various  scenes  of 
the  conflict,  while  its  owner  gave  historical  illus- 
trations. When,  with  much  merriment  at  its 
abominable  deficiency  of  merit,  the  exhibition  was 
concluded,  the  German  bade  little  Joe  put  his 
head  into  the  box.  Viewed  through  the  magni- 
fying glasses,  the  'boy's  round,  rosy  visage  as- 
sumed the  strangest  imaginable  aspect  of  an  im- 
mense Titanic  child,  the  mouth  grinning  broadly 
and  the  eyes  and  every  other  feature  overflowing 
with  fun  at  the  joke.  Suddenly,  liowever,  that 
merry  face  turned  pale  and  its  expression  changed 
to  horror,  for  this  easily  impressed  and  excitable 
child  had  become  sensible  that  the  eye  of  Ethan 
Brand  was  fixed  upon  him  through  the  glass. 


Ethan  Brand.  291 

"You  make  the  little  man  to  be  afraid,  cap- 
tain," said  the  German  Jew,  turning  up  the  dark 
and  strong  outline  of  his  visage  from  his  stooping 
posture.  "  But  look  again,  and,  by  chance,  I 
shall  cause  jou  to  see  somewhat  that  is  very  fine, 
upon  my  word." 

Ethan  Brand  gazed  into  the  box  for  an  instant, 
and  then,  starting  back,  looked  fixedly  at  the  Ger- 
man. What  had  he  seen  ?  ISTothing,  apparently, 
for  a  curious  youth  M^ho  had  peeped  in  almost  at 
the  same  moment  beheld  only  a  vacant  space  of 
canvas. 

"  I  remember  you  now,"  muttered  Ethan  Brand 
to  the  showman. 

"  Ah,  captain,"  whispered  the  Jew  of  IN'urem- 
burg,  with  a  dark  smile,  "  I  find  it  to  be  a  heavy 
matter  in  my  show-box,  this  Unpardonable  Sin! 
By  my  faith,  captain,  it  has  wearied  my  shoulders 
this  long  day  to  carry  it  over  the  mountain." 

"  Peace !  "  answered  Ethan  Brand  sternly,  "  or 
get  thee  into  the  furnace  yonder !  " 

The  Jew's  exhibition  had  scarcely  concluded 
when  a  great  elderly  dog,  who  seemed  to  be  his 
ovtru  master,  as  no  person  in  the  company  laid 
claim  to  him,  saw  fit  to  render  himself  the  object 
of  public  notice.    Hitherto  he  had  shown  himself 


292  Black  Rock. 

a  very  quiet,  well-disposed  old  dog,  going  round 
from  one  to  another,  and,  by  way  of  being  sociable, 
offering  his  rough  head  to  be  patted  by  any 
kindly  hand  that  would  take  so  much  trouble. 
But  now,  all  of  a  sudden,  this  grave  and  vener- 
aible  quadruped,  of  his  own  mere  motion  and  with- 
out the  slightest  suggestion  from  anybody  else, 
began  to  run  round  after  his  tail,  which,  to 
heighten  the  absurdity  of  the  proceeding,  was  a 
great  deal  shorter  than  it  should  have  been.  Never 
was  seen  such  headlong  eagerness  in  pursuit  of 
an  object  that  could  not  possibly  be  attained; 
never  was  heard  such  a  tremendous  outbreak  of 
growling,  snarling,  barking,  and  snapping,  as  if 
one  end  of  the  ridiculous  brute's  body  were  at 
deadly  and  most  unforgivable  enmity  with  the 
other.  Taster  and  faster  round  about  went  the 
cur,  and  faster  and  still  faster  fled  the  unap- 
proachable brevity  of  his  tail,  and  louder  and 
fiercer  grew  his  yells  of  rage  and  animosity,  until, 
utterly  exhausted  and  as  far  from  the  goal  as  ever, 
the  foolish  old  dog  ceased  his  performance  as  sud- 
denly as  he  had  begun  it.  The  next  moment  he 
was  as  mild,  quiet,  sensible,  and  respectable  in  his 
deportment  as  when  he  first  scraped  acquaintance 
with  the  company. 


Ethan  Brand.  293 

As  may  be  supposed,  tlie  exliibition  was  greeted 
with  "universal  laiigLter,  clapping  of  hands,  and 
shouts  of  encore,  to  which  the  canine  performer 
responded  by  wagging  all  that  there  was  to  wag 
of  his  tail,  but  appeared  totally  unable  to  repeat 
his  very  successful  effort  to  amuse  the  spectators. 

Meanwhile,  Ethan  Brand  had  resumed  his  seat 
upon  the  log,  and  moved,  it  might  be,  by  a  percep- 
tion of  some  remote  analogy  between  his  own 
case  and  that  of  this  self-pursuing  cur,  he  broke 
into  the  awful  laugh  which,  more  than  any  other 
token,  expressed  the  condition  of  his  inward  be- 
ing. Fi^om  that  moment  the  merriment  of  the 
party  was  at  an  end ;  they  stood  aghast,  dreading 
lest  tlie  inauspicious  sound  should  be  reverberated 
around  the  horizon,  and  that  mountain  would 
thunder  it  to  mountain,  and  so  the  horror  be  pro- 
longed upon  their  ears.  Then,  whispering  one  to 
another  that  it  was  late,  that  the  moon  was  almost 
down,  that  the  August  night  was  growing  chill, 
they  hurried  homeward,  leaving  the  lime-burner 
and  little  Joe  to  deal  as  tbey  might  with  their  un- 
welcome guest.  Save  for  these  three  human  be- 
ings, the  open  space  on  the  hill-side  was  a  soli- 
tude set  in  a  vast  gloom  of  forest.  Beyond  that 
darksome  verge  the  fire-light  glimmered  on  the 


594  Black  Rock. 

stately  trunks  and  almost  black  foliage  of  pines 
intennixed  with  the  lighter  verdure  of  sapling 
oaks,  maples,  and  poplars,  while  here  and  there 
lay  the  gigantic  corpses  of  dead  trees  decaying  on 
the  leaf-strewn  soil.  And  it  seemed  to  little  Joe 
— a  timorous  and  imaginative  child — that  the  si- 
lent forest  was  holding  its  breath  until  some  fear- 
ful thing  should  happen. 

Ethan  Brand  thrust  more  wood  into  the  fire  and 
closed  the  door  of  the  kiln ;  then,  looking  over  his 
shoulder  at  the  lime-burner  and  his  son,  he  bade 
rather  than  advised  them  to  retire  to  rest. 

"  For  myself,  I  cannot  sleep,"  said  he.  "  I 
have  matters  that  it  concerns  me  to  meditate  upon. 
I  will  waitch  the  fire,  as  I  used  to  do  in  the  old 
time." 

"  And  call  the  devil  out  of  the  furnace  to  keep 
you  company,  I  suppose,"  muttered  Bartram,  who 
had  been  making  intimate  acquaintance  with  the 
black  bottle  above  mentioned.  "  But  watch  if  you 
like,  and  call  as  many  devils  as  you  like.  For  my 
pairt,  I  shall  be  all  the  better  for  a  snooze. — Come, 
Joe." 

As  the  boy  followed  his  father  into  the  hut  he 
looked  back  at  the  wayfarer,  and  tlie  tears  came 
into  his  eyes,  for  his  tender  spirit  had  an  intuition 


Ethan  Brand.  295 

of  the  bleak  and  terrible  loneliness  in  which  this 
man  had  enveloped  himself. 

When  they  had  gone  Ethan  Brand  sat  listen- 
ing to  the  crackling  of  the  kindled  wood  and  look- 
ing at  the  little  spirits  of  fire  that  issued  through 
th-e  chinks  of  the  door.  These  trifles,  however, 
once  so  familiar,  had  but  the  slightest  hold  of  his 
attention,  while  deep  within  his  mind  he  was  re- 
viewing the  gradual  but  marvellous  change  that 
had  been  wrought  upon  him  by  the  search  to  which 
he  had  devoted  himself.  He  remembered  how  the 
night  dew  had  fallen  upon  him,  how  the  dark 
forest  had  whispered  to  him,  how  the  stars  had 
gleamed  upon  him,  a  simple  and  loving  man, 
watching  his  fi^re  in  the  years  gone  by,  and  ever 
musing  as  it  burned.  He  remembered  with  what 
tenderness,  with  what  love  and  sympathy  for  man- 
kind, and  what  pity  for  human  guilt  and  woe  he 
had  first  begun  to  contemplate  those  ideas  which 
afterward  became  the  inspiration  of  his  life ;  with 
what  reverence  he  had  then  looked  into  the  heart 
of  man,  viewing  it  as  a  temple  ori^nally  divine, 
and,  however  desecrated,  still  to  be  held  sacred  by 
a  brother ;  with  what  awful  fear  he  had  deprecated 
the  success  of  his  pursuit  and  prayed  that  the  Un- 
pardonable Sin  might  never  be  revealed  to  him. 


296  Black  Rock. 

Then  ensued  that  vast  intellectual  development 
which,  in  its  progress,  disturbed  the  counterpoise 
between  his  mind  and  heart.  The  Idea  that  pos- 
sessed his  life  had  operated  as  a  means  of  edu- 
cation; it  had  gone  on  cultivating  his  powers  to 
the  highest  point  of  which  thej  were  susceptible; 
it  had  raised  him  from  the  level  of  an  unlettered 
laborer  to  stand  on  a  star-lit  eminence,  whither 
the  philosophers  of  the  earth,  laden  with  the  lore 
of  universities,  might  vainly  strive  to  clamber 
after  him.  So  much  for  the  intellect !  But 
where  was  the  heart  ?  That,  indeed,  had  with- 
ered, had  contracted,  had  hardened,  had  perished. 
It  haid  ceased  to  partake  of  the  universal  throb, 
lie  had  lost  his  hold  of  the  magnetic  chain  of 
humanitv.  He  was  no  longer  a  brother-man, 
opening  the  chambers  or  the  dungeons  of  our 
common  nature  by  the  key  of  holy  sympathy 
which  gave  him  a  right  to  share  in  all  its  secrets ; 
he  was  now  a  cold  observer,  looking  on  mankind 
as  the  subject  of  his  experiment,  and  at  length 
converting  man  and  woman  to  be  his  puppets, 
and  pulling  the  wires  that  moved  them  to  such  de- 
grees of  crime  as  were  demanded  for  his 
study. 

Thus  Ethan  Brand  becam©  a  fiend.     He  be- 


Ethan  Brand.  297 

sran  to  be  so  from  the  moment  that  his  moral  na- 
ture  had  ceased  to  keep  the  pace  of  improvement 
with  his  intellect.  And  now,  as  his  highest  effort 
and  inevitable  development — as  the  bright  and 
gorgeous  flower  and  rich,  delicious  fruit  of  his 
life's  labor — he  had  produced  the  Unpardonable 
Sin! 

"  What  more  have  I  to  seek  ?  what  more  to 
achieve  ?  "  said  Ethan  Brand  to  himself.  "  My 
task  is  done,  and  well  done." 

Starting  from  the  log  with  a  certain  alacrity 
in  'his  gait,  and  ascending  the  hillock  of  earth 
that  was  raised  againsrt  the  stone  circumference 
of  the  lime-kiln,  he  thus  reached  the  top  of  the 
structure.  It  was  a  space  of  perhaps  ten  feet 
across  from  edge  to  edge,  presenting  a  view  of  the 
upper  surface  of  the  immense  mass  of  broken 
marble  with  which  the  kiln  was  heaped.  All  these 
innumerable  blocks  and  fragments  of  marble  were 
red-hot  and  vividly  on  fire,  sending  up  great 
spouts  of  blue  flame,  which  quivered  aloft  and 
danced  madly  as  within  a  magic  circle,  and  sank 
and  rose  again  with  continual  and  multitudinous 
activity.  As  the  lonely  man  bent  forward  over 
this  terrible  body  of  fire  the  blasting  heat  smote 
up    against    his    person    with    a  breath    that,    it 


298  Black  Rock. 

might  be  supposed,  would  have  scorclied  and 
skri veiled  him  up  in  a  moment. 

Ethan  Brand  stood  erect  and  raised  his  arms 
on  high.  The  blue  flames  played  upon  his  face, 
and  imparted  the  wild  and  ghastly  light  which 
alone  could  have  suited  its  expression ;  it  was  that 
of  a  fiend  on  the  verge  of  plunging  into  his  gulf 
of  intensest  torment. 

"  O  Mother  Earth,"  cried  he,  "  who  art  no  more 
my  mother  and  into  whose  bosom  this  frame 
shall  never  be  resolved ! — O  mankind,  whose 
brotherhood  I  have  cast  off,  and  trampled  thy 
great  heart  beneath  my  feet! — O  stars  of  heaven, 
that  shone  on  me  of  old,  as  if  to  light  me  onward 
and  upward! — farewell  all,  and  for  ever.  Come, 
deadly  element  of  Fire,  henceforth  my  familiar 
friend !     Embrace  me  as  I  do  thee !  " 

That  night  the  sound  of  a  fearful  peal  of  laugh- 
ter rolled  heavily  through  the  sleep  of  the  lime- 
burner  and  his  little  son;  dim  shapes  of  horror 
and  anguish  haimted  their  dreams,  and  seemed 
still  present  in  the  rude  hovel  when  they  opened 
their  eyes  to  the  daylight. 

"Up,  boy,  up!  "  cried  the  lime-burner,  staring 
about  him.  "  Thank  Heaven,  the  night  is  gone 
at  last,  and  rather  than  pass  such  another  I  would 


Ethan  Brand.  299 

watch  my  lime-kiln,  wide  awake,  for  a  twelve- 
month. This  Ethan  Brand,  with  his  humbug  of 
an  Unpardonable  Sin,  has  done  me  no  such 
mighty  favor  in  taking  my  place." 

He  issued  from  the  hut,  followed  by  little  Joe, 
who  kept  fast  hold  of  his  father's  hand.  The 
early  sunshine  was  already  pouring  its  gold  upon 
the  mountain-tops,  and  though  the  valleys  were 
still  in  shadow,  they  smiled  cheerfully  in  the 
promise  of  the  bright  day  that  was  hastening  on- 
ward. The  village,  completely  shut  in  by  hills 
which  swelled  away  gently  about  it,  looked  as  if 
it  had  rested  peacefully  in  the  hollow  of  the 
great  hand  of  Providence.  Every  dwelling  was 
distinctly  visible;  the  little  spires  of  the  two 
churches  pointed  upward  and  caught  a  fore- 
glimmering  of  brightness  from  the  sun-gilt  skies 
upon  their  gilded  weather-cocks.  The  tavern  was 
astir,  and  the  figure  of  the  old,  smoke-dried 
stage-agent,  cigar  in  mouth,  was  seen  beneath  the 
stoop.  Old  Graylock  was  glorified  with  a  golden 
cloud  upon  his  head.  Scattered  likewise  over 
the  breasts  of  the  surrounding  mountains  there 
were  heaps  of  hoary  mists  in  fantastic  shapes, 
some  of  them  far  down  into  the  valley,  others 
high  up  toward  the  summits,  and  still  others,  of 


300  Black  Rock. 

the  same  family  of  mist  or  cloud,  hovering  in  the 
gold  radiance  of  tlie  upper  atmosphere.  Step- 
ping from  one  to  another  of  the  clouds  that  rested 
on  the  hills,  and  thence  to  the  loftier  brotherhood 
that  sailed  in  air,  it  seemed  almost  as  if  a  mortal 
man  might  thus  ascend  into  the  heavenly  regions. 
Earth  was  so  mingled  with  sky  that  it  was  a  day- 
dream to  look  at  it. 

To  supply  that  charm  of  the  familiar  and 
homely  which  Nature  so  readily  adopts  into  a 
scene  like  this,  the  stage-coach  was  rattling  down 
the  mountain-road,  and  the  driver  sounded  his 
horn,  while  echo  caught  up  the  notes  and  inter- 
twined them  into  a  rich  and  varied  and  elaborate 
harmony  of  which  the  original  performer  could 
lay  claim  to  little  share.  The  great  hills  played 
a  concert  among  themselves,  each  contributing  a 
strain  of  airy  sweetness. 

Little  Joe's  face  brightened  at  once. 

"  Dear  father,"  cried  he,  skipping  cheerily 
to  and  fro,  "  that  strange  man  is  gone,  and  the 
sky  and  the  mountains  all  seem  glad  of  it." 

"  Yes,"  growled  the  lime-burner  with  an  oath, 
"  but  he  has  let  tfte  fire  go  down,  and  no  thanks 
to  him  if  five  hundred  bushels  of  lime  are  not 


Ethan  Brand.  301 

spoiled.     If  I  catcli  the  fellow  hereabouts  again, 
I  shall  feel  like  tossing  him  into  the  furnace." 

With  his  long  pole  in  his  hand  he  ascended  to 
the  top  of  the  kiln.  After  a  moment's  pause  he 
called  to  his  son. 

"  Come  up  here,  Joe !  "  said  he. 

So  little  Joe  ran  up  the  hillock  and  stood  by  his 
father's  side.  The  marble  was  all  burnt  into  per- 
fect, snow-white  lime.  But  on  its  surface,  in  the 
midst  of  the  circle — snow-white  too,  and  thor- 
oughly converted  into  lime — lay  a  human  skel- 
eton in  the  attitude  of  a  person  who,  after  long 
toil,  lies  down  to  long  repose.  Within  the  ribs, 
strange  to  say,  was  the  shape  of  a  human  heart. 

"  Was  the  fellow's  heart  made  of  marble  ?  " 
cried  Bartram,  in  some  perplexity  at  this  phe- 
nomenon. "  At  any  rate,  it  is  burnt  into  what 
looks  like  special  good  lime;  and,  taking  all  the 
bones  together,  my  kiln  is  half  a  bushel  the  richer 
for  him." 

So  sa^dnis:,  the  rude  lime-bumer  lifted  his  pole, 
and,  letting  it  fall  upon  the  skeleton,  the  relics  of 
Ethan  Brand  were  crumbled  into  fragments. 


302  Black  Rock. 


JOHJT    IlS^GLEriELD'S    THAISTESGIVIITG. 

On  the  evening  of  Thanksgiving  daj  John 
Inglefield,  the  blacksmith,  sat  in  his  elbow-chair 
among  those  who  had  been  keeping  festival  at  his 
board.  Being  the  central  figure  of  the  domestic 
circle,  the  fire  threw  its  strongest  light  on  his  mas- 
sive and  sturdy  frame,  reddening  his  rough  visage 
so  that  it  looked  like  the  head  of  an  iron  statue 
all  aglow  from  his  own  forge  and  witli  its  features 
rudely  fashioned  on  his  own  anvil.  At  John 
Inglefield's  right  hand  was  an  empty  chair.  The 
other  places  round  the  hearth  were  filled  by  the 
members  of  the  family,  who  all  sat  quietly,  while, 
with,  a  semblance  of  fantastic  merriment,  their 
shadows  danced  on  the  wall  behind  them.  One 
of  the  group  was  John  Inglefield's  son,  who  had 
been  bred  at  college,  and  was  now  a  student  of 
theology  at  Andover.  There  was  also  a  daughter 
of  sixteen,  whom  nobody  could  look  at  without 
thinking  of  a  rose-bud  almost  blossomed.  The 
only    other   person    at    the    fireside    was    Robert 


John  Inglefield's  Thanksgiving      303 

Moore,  formerly  an  apprentice  of  the  blacksmith, 
but  now  his  journeyman,  and  who  seemed  more 
like  an  own  son  of  John  Inglefieid  than  did  the 
pale  and  slender  student. 

Only  these  four  had  kept  New  England's  fes- 
tival beneath  tliat  roof.  The  vacant  chair  at 
John  Inglefield's  right  hand  was  in  memory  of 
his  wife,  whom  death  had  snatchod  from  him 
since  the  previous  Thanksgiving.  With  a  feeling 
that  few  would  have  looked  for  in  his  rough 
nature,  the  bereaved  husband  had  himself  set  the 
chair  in  its  place  next  his  own ;  and  often  did  his 
eye  glance  thitherward,  as  if  he  deemed  it  possible 
that  the  cold  grave  might  send  back  its  tenant  to 
the  cheerful  fireside,  at  least  for  that  one  eve- 
ning. Thus  did  he  cherish  the  grief  that  was  dear 
to  him.  But  there  was  another  grief  which  he 
would  fain  have  torn  from  his  heart,  or,  since 
that  could  never  be,  have  buried  it  too  deep  for 
others  to  behold,  or  for  his  own  remembrance. 
Within  the  past  year  another  member  of  his 
household  had  gone  from  him,  but  not  to  the 
grave.    Yet  they  kept  no  vacant  chair  for  her. 

While  John  Inglefieid  and  his  family  were  sit- 
ting round  the  hearth,  with  the  shadows  dancing 
behind  them   on   the   wall,   the   outer   door   was 


304  Black  Rock. 

opened  and  a  light  footstep  came  along  tlie  pas- 
sage. The  latch  of  the  inner  door  was  lifted  bj 
some  familiar  band,  and  a  young  girl  came  in, 
wearing  a  cloak  and  hood,  which  she  took  off  and 
laid  on  the  table  beneath  the  looking-glass.  Then, 
after  gazing  a  moment  at  the  fireside  circle,  she 
approached  and  took  the  seat  at  John  Inglefield's 
right  hand,  as  if  it  had  been  reserved  on  purpose 
for  her. 

"  Here  I  am  at  last,  father,"  said  she.  "  You 
ate  your  Thanksgiving  dinner  without  me,  but  I 
have  come  back  to  spend  the  evening  with  you." 

Yes,  it  was  Prudence  Inglefield.  She  wore  the 
same  neat  and  maidenly  attire  which  she  had  been 
accustomed  to  put  on  when  the  household  work 
was  over  for  the  day,  and  her  hair  was  parted 
from  her  brow  in  the  simple  and  modfst  fashion 
that  became  her  best  of  all.  If  her  cheek  might 
otherwise  have  been  pale,  yet  the  glow  of  the  fire 
suffused  it  with  a  healthful  bloom.  If  she  had 
spent  the  many  months  of  her  absence  in  guilt  and 
infamy,  yet  they  seemed  to  have  left  no  traces  on 
her  gentle  aspect.  She  could  not  have  looked  less 
altered  had  she  merely  stepped  away  from  her 
father's  fireside  for  half  an  hour,  and  returned 
while  the  blaze  was  quivering  upward  from  the 


John  Inglefield's  Thanksgiving.      305 

same  brands  that  were  burning  at  her  departure. 
And  to  Joiin  Inglefield  sbe  was  the  very  image 
of  his  buried  wife,  such  as  he  remembered  her  on 
the  first  Thanksgiving  which  they  had  passed 
under  their  own  roof.  Therefore,  though  natu- 
rally a  stern  and  rugged  man,  he  could  not  speak 
unkindly  to  his  sinful  child,  nor  yet  could  he  take 
her  to  his  bosom. 

"  You  are  welcome  home.  Prudence,"  said  he, 
glancing  sideways  at  her,  and  his  voice  faltered. 
"  Your  mother  would  have  rejoiced  to  see  you, 
but  she  has  been  gone  from  us  these  four  months." 

"  I  know  it,  father,  I  know  it,"  replied  Pru- 
dence,  quickly.  "  And  yet,  when  I  first  came  in, 
my  eye-s  were  so  dazzled  by  the  fire-light  that  she 
seemed  to  be  sitting  in  this  very  chair." 

By  this  time  the  other  members  of  the  family 
had  begun  to  recover  from  their  surprise,  and  be- 
came sensible  that  it  was  no  ghost  from  the  grave 
nor  vision  of  their  vivid  recollections,  but  Pru- 
dence  her  own  self.  Her  brother  was  the  next 
that  greeted  her.  He  advanced  and  held  out  his 
hand  affectionately,  as  a  brother  should ;  yet  not 
entirely  like  a  brother,  for,  witli  all  his  kindness, 
he  was  still  a  clergyman  and  speaking  to  a  child 

of  sin. 
20 


3o6  Black  Rock. 

"  Sister  Prudence,"  said  lie,  earnestly,  "  I  re- 
joice that  a  merciful  Providence  liatli  turned  your 
steps  homeward  in  time  for  me  to  bid  you  a  last 
farewell.  In  a  few  weeks,  sister,  I  am  to  sail  as 
a  missionary  to  the  far  islands  of  the  Pacific. 
There  is  not  one  of  these  beloved  faces  that  I 
shall  ever  hope  to  behold  again  on  this  earth.  Oh, 
may  I  see  all  of  them — ^yours  and  all—beyond  the 
grave !  " 

A  shadow  flitted  across  the  girl's  countenance. 

"  The  grave  is  very  dark,  brother,"  answered 
she,  withdrawing  her  hand  somewhat  hastily  from 
his  grasp.  "  You  must  look  your  last  at  me  by  the 
light  of  this  fire." 

While  this  was  passing  the  twin-girl — the  rose- 
bud that  had  grown  on  the  same  stem  with  the 
castaway — stood  gazing  at  her  sister,  longing  to 
fling  herself  upon  her  bosom,  so  that  the  tendrils 
of  their  hearts  might  intertwine  again.  At  first 
she  was  restrained  by  mingled  grief  and  shame, 
and  by  a  dread  that  Prudence  Vv^as  too  much 
changed  to  respond  to  her  affection,  or  that  her  own 
purity  would  be  felt  as  a  reproach  by  the  lost  one. 
But  as  she  listened  to  the  familiar  voice,  while 
the  face  grew  more  and  more  familiar,  she  forgot 
everything  save  that  Prudence  had   come  back. 


iohn  Ingiefield's  Thanksgiving.     307 

Springing  forward,  she  would  have  clasped  her  in 
a  close  embrace.  At  that  very  instant,  however. 
Prudence  started  from  her  chair  and  held  out 
both  her  hands  with  a  warning  gesture. 

"  No,  Mary — no,  my  sister,"  cried  she,  "  do 
not  you  touch  me.  Your  bosom  must  not  be 
pressed  to  mine." 

Mary  shuddered  and  stood  still,  for  she  felt 
that  something  darker  than  the  grave  was  between 
Prudence  and  herself,  though  they  seemed  so  near 
each  other  in  the  light  of  their  father's  hearth, 
where  they  had  grown  up  together.  Meanwhile, 
Prudence  threw  her  eyes  around  the  room  in 
search  of  one  who  had  not  yet  bidden  her  wel- 
come. He  had  withdrawn  from  his  seat  by  the 
fireside,  and  was  standing  near  the  door  with 
his  face  averted,  so  that  his  features  could  be  dis- 
cerned only  by  the  flickering  shadow  of  the  profile 
upon  the  wall.  But  Prudence  called  to  him  in  a 
cheerful  and  kindly  tone. 

"  Come,  Kobert,"  said  she,  "  won't  you  shake 
hands  with  your  old  friend  ?  " 

■  Eobert  Moore  held  back  for  a  moment,  but  af- 
fection struggled  powerfully,  and  overcame  his 
pride  and  resentment;  he  rushed  toward  Pru- 
dence, seized  her  hand,  and  pressed  it  to  his  bosom. ; 


3o8  Black  Rock. 

"  There,  tliere,  Robert !  "  said  she,  smiling  sadly 
as  she  withdrew  her  hand ;  "  jou  must  not  give 
me  too  wai-m  a  welcome." 

And  now,  having  exchanged  greetings  with 
each  member  of  the  family.  Prudence  again  seated 
herself  in  the  chair  at  John  Inglefield's  right 
hand.  She  was  naturally  a  girl  of  quick  and  ten- 
der sensibilities,  gladsome  in  her  general  mood, 
but  with  a  bewitching  pathos  interfused  among 
her  merriest  words  and  deeds.  It  was  remarked 
of  her,  too,  that  she  had  a  faculty,  even  from  child- 
hood, of  throwing  her  own  feelings  like  a  spell 
over  her  companions.  Such  as  she  had  been  in  her 
days  of  innocence,  so  did  she  appear  this  evening. 
Her  friends,  in  the  surprise  and  bewilderment  of 
her  return,  almost  forgot  that  she  had  ever  left 
them  or  that  she  had  forfeited  any  of  her  claims 
to  their  affection.  In  the  morning,  perhaps,  they 
might  have  looked  at  her  with  altered  eyes,  but 
by  the  Thanksgiving  fireside  they  felt  only  that 
their  own  Prudence  had  come  back  to  them,  and 
were  thankful.  John  Inglefield's  rough  visage 
brightened  w'ith  the  glow  of  his  heart  a&  it  grew 
warm  and  merry  \vithin  him ;  once  or  twice  even 
he  laughed  till  the  room  rang  again,  yet  seemed 
startled  by  the  echo  of  his  own  mirth.    The  gi-ave 


John  Inglefield's  Thanksgiving.     309 

young  miuister  became  as  frolicsome  as  a  school- 
boj.  ]\rary,  too,  the  rosebud,  forgot  that  her 
twin-blossom  had  ever  been  torn  from  the  stem 
and  trampled  in  the  dust,  xind  as  for  Robert 
Moore,  he  gazed  at  Prudence  with  the  bashful 
earnestness  of  love  new-born,  while  she,  with 
sweet  maiden  coquetry,  half  smiled  upon  and  half 
discouraged  him. 

In  short,  it  was  one  of  those  intervals  when  sor- 
row vanishes  in  its  own  depth  of  shadow,  and  joy 
staji:s  forth  in  transitory  brightness.  When  the 
clock  struck  eight  Prudence  poured  out  her 
father's  customary  draught  of  herb  tea,  which 
had  been  steeping  by  the  fireside  ever  since  twi- 
light. 

"  God  bless  you,  child !  "  said  John  Inglefield, 
as  he  took  the  cup  from  her  hand;  "you  have 
made  your  old  father  happy  again.  But  we  miss 
your  mother  sadly,  Prudence,  sadly.  It  seems  as 
if  she  ought  to  be  here  now." 

"  Now,  father,   or  never,"  replied  Prudence. 

It  was  now  the  hour  for  domestic  worship.  But 
while  the  family  were  making  preparations  for 
this  duty  they  suddenly  perceived  that  Prudence 
had  put  on  her  cloak  and  hood  and  was  lifting  the 
latch  of  the  door. 


310  Black  Rock. 

"  Prudence,  Prudence !  where  are  jou  going  ?  " 
cried  they  all  with  one  voice. 

As  Prudence  passed  out  of  the  door  she  turned 
toward  them  and  flung  back  her  hand  with  a  ges- 
ture of  farewell.  But  her  face  was  so  changed 
that  they  hardly  recognized  it.  Sin  and  evil  pas- 
sions glowed  through  its  comeliness  and  wrought 
a  horrible  deformity ;  a  smile  gleamed  in  her  eyes, 
as  of  triumphant  mockeiy  at  their  surprise  and 
grief. 

"  Daughter,"  cried  John  Inglefield,  between 
wrath  and  sorrow,  "  stay  and  be  your  father's 
blessing,  or  take  his  curse  with  you !  " 

For  an  instant  Prudence  lingered  and  looked 
back  into  the  fire-lighted  room,  while  her  counte- 
nance wore  almost  the  expression  as  if  she  were 
struggling  witli  a  fiend  who  had  power  to  seize 
his  victim  even  within  the  hallowed  precincts  of 
her  father's  hearth.  The  fiend  prevailed,  and 
Prudence  vanished  into  the  outer  darkness.  When 
the  family  rushed  to  the  door  they  could  see  noth- 
ing, but  heard  the  sound  of  wheels  rattling  over 
the  frozen  ground. 

That  same  night,  among  the  painted  beauties 
at  the  theatre  of  a  neighboring  city,  there  was  one 
whose   dissolute  mirth  seemed  inconsistent  with 


John  Inglefield's  Thanksgiving.     311 

any  sympathy  for  pure  affections  and  for  the  joys 
and  griefs  which  are  hallowed  by  them.  Yet 
this  was  Prudence  Inglefield.  Her  visit  to  the 
Thanksgiving  fireside  was  the  realization  of  one 
of  those  waking  dreams  in  which  the  guilty  soul 
will  sometimes  stray  back  to  its  innocence.  But 
Sin,  alas !  is  careful  of  her  bond-slaves ;  they  hear 
her  voice,  perhaps,  at  the  holiest  moment,  and  are 
constrained  to  go  whither  she  summons  them. 
The  same  dark  power  that  drew  Prudence  Irxgle- 
field  from  her  father's  hearth — the  same  in  its 
nature,  though  heightened  then  to  a  dread  neces- 
sity— would  snatch  a  guilty  soul  from  the  gate  of 
heaven,  and  make  its  sin  and  its  punishment  alike 
eternal. 


312  Black  Rock. 


HAJOK  MOLINEUX. 

Aftee  the  kings  of  Great  Britain  had  assumed 
tJie  right  of  appointing  the  colonial  governors  the 
measures  of  the  latter  seldom  met  with  the  ready 
and  general  approbation  which  had  been  paid  to 
those  of  their  predecessors  under  the  original 
charters.  The  people  looked  with  most  jealous 
scrutiny  to  the  exercise  of  power  which  did  not 
emanate  from  themselves,  and  they  usually  re- 
wairded  their  rulers  with  slender  gratitude  for 
the  compliances  by  which,  in  softening  their  in- 
structions from  beyond  the  sea,  they  had  incurred 
the  reprehension  of  those  who  gave  them.  The 
annals  of  Massachusetts  Bay  will  inform  us  that 
of  six  governors  in  the  space  of  about  forty  years 
from  the  surrender  of  the  old  charter  under  James 
II.,  two  were  imprisoned  by  a  popular  insurrec- 
tion; a  third,  as  Hutchinson  inclines  to  believe, 
was  driven  from  the  province  by  the  whizzing  of  ^ 
musket-ball;  a  fourth,  in  the  opinion  of  the  ssrv 


Major  Molineux.  313 

bistorian,  was  hastened  to  his  ^rave  by  continual 
bickerings  with  the  House  of  Representatives; 
and  the  remaining  two,  as  well  as  their  successors 
till  the  Revolution,  were  favored  with  few  and 
brief  intervals  of  peaceful  sway.  The  inferior 
members  of  the  court  party  in  times  of  high  po- 
litical excitement  led  scarcely  a  more  desirable 
life.  These  remarks  may  serve  as  a  preface  to 
the  following  adventures,  which  chanced  upon  a 
summer  night  not  far  from  a  hundred  years  ago. 
The  reader,  in  order  to  avoid  a  long  and  dry  de- 
tail of  colonial  affairs,  is  requested  to  dispense 
with  an  account  of  the  train  of  circumstances 
that  had  caused  much  temporary  inflammation  of 
the  popular  mind. 

It  was  near  nine  o'clock  of  a  moonlight  eve- 
ning w^hen  a  boat  crossed  the  ferry  with  a  single 
passenger,  who  had  obtained  his  conveyance  at 
that  unusual  hour  by  the  promise  of  an  extra  fare. 
While  he  stood  on  the  landing-place  searching  in 
either  pocket  for  the  means  of  fulfilling  his  agree- 
ment, the  ferryman  lifted  a  lantern,  by  the  aid  of 
which  and  the  newly-risen  moon  he  took  a  very 
accurate  survey  of  the  stranger's  figure.  He  was 
a  youth  of  barely  eighteen  years,  evidently  coun- 
try-bred, and  now,  as  it  should  seem,  upon  his 


314  Black  Rock. 

first  visit  to  town.  He  was  clad  in  a  coarse  gray 
coat,  well  worn,  but  in  excellent  repair ;  his  under- 
garments were  durably  constructed  of  leather,  and 
fitted  tight  to  a  pair  of  serviceable  and  well' 
shaped  limbs ;  his  stockings  of  blue  yam  were  the 
incontrovertible  work  of  a  mother  or  a  sister;  a)i<] 
on  his  head  was  a  three-cornered  hat  which  i.'i 
its  better  daj^s  had  perhaps  sheltered  the  graver 
brow  of  the  lad's  father.  Under  his  left  arm  was 
a  heavy  cudgel  formed  of  an  oak  sapling  and  re- 
taining a  part  of  the  hardened  root;  and  his 
equipment  was  completed  by  a  wallet  not  so 
abundantly  stocked  as  to  incommode  the  vigorous 
shoulders  on  which  it  hung.  Brown  curly  hair, 
well-shaped  features,  and  bright  cheerful  eyes 
were  Nature's  gifts,  and  worth  all  that  art  could 
have  done  for  his  adornment. 

The  youth,  one  of  whose  names  was  Robin, 
finally  drew  from  his  pocket  the  half  of  a  little 
province  bill  of  five  shillings,  which,  in  the  de- 
preciation of  that  sort  of  currency,  did  but  satisfy 
the  ferryman's  demand,  with  the  surplus  of  a 
sexangnlar  piece  of  parchment  valued  at  three 
pence.  He  then  walked  forward  into  the  town 
with  as  light  a  step  as  if  his  day's  jouraey  had 
not  already  exceeded  thirty  miles,  and  with  as- 


Major  Molineux.  315 

eager  an  eje  as  if  lie  were  entering  London  City, 
instead  of  the  little  metropolis  of  a  New  England 
colony.  Before  Robin  had  proceeded  far,  how- 
ever, it  occurred  to  him  that  he  knew  not  whither 
to  direct  his  steps,  so  he  paused  and  looked  up 
and  down  tlie  narrow  street,  scrutinizing  the  small 
and  mean  wooden  buildings  tliat  were  scattered 
on  either  side. 

"  This  low  hovel  cannot  be  my  kinsman's 
dwelling,"  thought  he,  "  nor  yonder  old  house, 
where  the  moonlight  enters  at  the  broken  case- 
ment; and,  truly,  I  see  none  hereabouts  that 
might  be  worthy  of  him.  It  would  have  been  wise 
to  inquire  my  way  of  tlie  ferryman,  and  doubt- 
less he  would  have  gone  with  me  and  earned  a 
shilling  from  the  major  for  his  pains.  But  the 
next  man  I  meet  will  do  as  well." 

He  resimied  his  walk,  and  was  glad  to  perceive 
that  the  street  now  became  wider  and  the  houses 
more  respectable  in  their  appearance.  He  soon 
discerned  a  figure  moving  on  moderately  in  ad- 
vance, and  hastened  his  steps  to  overtake  it.  As 
Robin  drew  nigh  he  saw  that  the  passenger  was 
a  man  in  years,  with  a  full  periwig  of  gray  hair, 
a  wide-skirted  coat  of  dark  cloth,  and  silk  stock- 
ings rolled  above  his  knees.     He  carried  a  long 


3i6  Black  Rock. 

and  polished  cane  whicli  lie  struck  down  per- 
pendicularly before  him  at  every  step,  and  at 
regular  intervals  he  uttered  two  successive  hems 
of  a  peculiarly  solemn  and  sepulchral  intonation. 
Having  made  these  observations,  Robin  laid  hold 
of  the  skirt  of  the  old  man's  coat  just  when  the 
light  from  the  open  door  and  windows  of  a  bar- 
ber's shop  fell  upon  both  their  figures. 

"  Good-evening  to  you,  honored  sir,"  said  he, 
making  a  low  bow  and  still  retaining  his  hold  of 
the  skirt.  "  I  pray  you  tell  me  whereabouts  is 
the  dwelling  of  my  kinsman.  Major  Molineux  ?  " 

The  youth's  question  was  uttered  very  loudly, 
and  one  of  the  barbers,  whose  razor  was  descend- 
ing on  a  well-soaped  chin,  and  another  who  was 
dressing  a  Ramillies  wig,  left  their  occupations 
and  came  to  the  door.  The  citizen  in  the  mean 
time  turned  a  long-favored  countenance  upon 
Robin,  and  answered  him  in  a  tone  of  excessive 
anger  and  annoyance.  His  two  sepulchral  hems, 
however,  broke  into  the  very  centre  of  his  rebuke 
with  most  singular  effect,  like  a  thought  of  the 
cold  grave  obtruding  among  wrathful  passions. 

"  Let  go  my  garment,  fellow !  I  tell  you  I 
know  not  the  man  you  speak  of.  \^Tiat !  I  have 
authority,  I  have — hem,  hem — authority;  and  if 


Major  Molineux.  317 

tMs  be  the  respect  you  sliow  for  your  betters, 
your  feet  shall  be  brought  acquainted  with  the 
stocks  by  daylight  to-morrow  morning." 

Robin  released  the  old  man's  skirt  and  hast- 
ened away,  pursued  by  an  ill-mannered  roar  of 
laughter  from  the  barber's  shop.  lie  was  at  first 
considerably  surprised  by  the  result  of  his  ques- 
tion, but,  being  a  shrewd  youth,  soon  thought  him- 
self able  to  account  for  the  mystery. 

"  This  is  some  country  representative,"  was  his 
conclusion,  "  who  has  never  seen  the  inside  of  my 
kinsman's  door,  and  lacks  the  breeding  to  answer 
a  stranger  civilly.  The  man  is  old,  or  verily  I 
might  be  tempted  to  turn  back  and  smite  him  on 
the  nose.  x\h,  Robin,  Robin !  even  the  barber's 
boys  laugh  at  you  for  choosing  such  a  guide ! 
You  will  be  wiser  in  time,  friend  Robin." 

He  now  became  entangled  in  a  succession  of 
crooked  and  narrow  streets  which  crossed  each 
other  and  meandered  at  no  great  distance  from 
the  water-side.  The  smell  of  tar  was  obvious  to 
his  nostrils,  the  masts  of  vessels  pierced  the  moon- 
light above  the  tops  of  the  buildings,  and  the 
numerous  signs  which  Robin  paused  to  read  in- 
formed him  that  he  was  near  the  centre  of  busi- 
ness.   But  the  streets  were  empty,  the  shops  were 


3i8  Black  Rock. 

closed,  and  lights  were  visible  only  in  the  second 
stories  of  a  few  dwelling-houses.  At  length,  on 
the  comer  of  a  narrow  lane  through  which  he  was 
passing,  he  beheld  the  broad  countenance  of  a 
British  hero  swinging  before  the  door  of  an  inn 
whence  proceeded  the  voices  of  many  guests.  The 
casement  of  one  of  the  lower  windows  was  thrown 
back,  and  a  very  thin  curtain  permitted  Robin  to 
distinguish  a  party  at  supper  round  a  well-fur- 
nished table.  The  fragrance  of  the  good  cheer 
steamed  forth  into  the  outer  air,  and  the  youth 
could  not  fail  to  recollect  that  the  last  remnant 
of  his  travelling  stock  of  provision  had  yielded 
to  his  morning  appetite,  and  thut  noon  had  found, 
and  left,  him  dinnerless. 

"  Oh  that  a  parchment  three-penny  might  give 
me  a  right  to  sit  down  at  yonder  table !  "  said 
Robin  with  a  sigh.  "  But  the  major  will  make 
me  welcome  to  the  best  of  his  victuals,  so  I  will 
even  step  boldly  in  and  inquire  my  way  to  his 
dwelling." 

He  entered  the  tavern,  and  was  guided  by  iihe 
murmur  of  voices  and  the  fumes  of  tobacco  to  the 
public  room.  It  was  a  long  and  low  apartment, 
with  oaken  walls  grown  dark  in  the  continual 
smoke,  and  a  floor  which  was  thickly  sanded,  but 


Major  Molineux.  319 

of  no  immaculate  purity.  A  number  of  persons, 
the  larger  part  of  whom  appeared  to  be  mariners 
or  in  some  way  connocted  with  the  sea,  occupied 
the  wooden  benches  or  leather-bottomed  chairs, 
conversing  on  various  matters,  and  occasionally 
lending  their  attention  to  some  topic  of  gen- 
eral interest  Three  or  four  little  groups 
were  draining  as  many  bowls  of  punch  whicli 
the  West  India  trade  had  long  since  made 
a  familiar  drink  in  the  colony.  Others,  who 
had  the  appearance  of  men  who  lived  by 
regular  and  laborious  handicraft,  preferred  the 
insulated  bliss  of  an  unshared  potation,  and  be- 
came more  taciturn  under  its  influence.  ISTearly 
all,  in  short,  evinced  a  predilection  for  the  Good 
Creature  in  some  of  its  various  shapes,  for  this  is 
a  vice  to  which,  as  Fast-day  sermons  of  a  hundred 
years  ago  will  testify,  we  have  a  long  hereditary 
claim.  The  only  guests  to  whom  Eobin's  sympa- 
tliies  inclined  him  were  two  or  three  sheepish 
countrymen  who  were  using  the  inn  somewhat 
after  the  fashion  of  a  Turkish  caravansary;  they 
had  gotten  themselves  into  the  darkest  corner  of 
the  room,  and,  heedless  of  the  nicotian  atmos- 
phere, were  supping  on  the  bread  of  their  own 
ovens  and  the  bacon  cured  in  their  own  chimney- 


320  Black  Rock. 

smoke.  But,  tliough  Robin  felt  a  sort  of  brother- 
hood with  the&e  strangers,  his  ejes  were  attracted 
from  them  to  a  person  who  stood  near  the  door, 
holding  whispered  conversation  with  a  group  of 
ill-dressed  associates.  His  features  were  sepa- 
rately striking  almost  to  grotesqueness,  and  the 
whole  face  left  a  deep  impression  on  the  memory. 
The  forehead  bulged  out  into  a  double  prominence 
with  a  vale  between ;  the  nose  came  boldly  forth  in 
an  irregular  curve,  and  its  bridge  was  of  more 
than  a  finger's  breadth;  tlie  eyebrows  were  deep 
and  shaggy,  and  the  eyes  glowed  beneath  them 
like  fire  in  a  cave. 

While  Rolbin  deliberated  of  whom  to  inquire 
respecting  his  kinsman's  dwelling,  he  was  accosted 
by  the  innkeeper,  a  little  man  in  a  stained  white 
apron,  who  had  come  to  pay  his  professional  wel- 
come to  the  stranger.  Being  in  the  second  gener- 
ation from  a  French  Protestant,  he  seemed  to 
have  inherited  the  courtesy  of  his  parent  nation, 
but  no  variety  of  circumstances  was  ever  known 
to  change  his  voice  from  the  one  shrill  note  in 
which  he  now  addressed  Robin. 

"  From  the  country,  I  presume,  sir  ?  "  said  he, 
with  a  profound  bow.  "  Beg  leave  to  congratu- 
late you  on  your  arrival,  and  trust  you  intend  a 


Major  Molineux.  321 

long  stay  with  us,  Fine  town  here,  sir,  beautiful 
buildings,  and  much  that  may  interest  a  stranger. 
May  I  hope  for  the  honor  of  your  commands  in 
respect  to  supper  ?  " 

"  The  man  sees  a  family  likeness !  the  rogue  has 
guessed  that  I  am  related  to  the  major !  "  thought 
Eobin,  who  had  hitherto  experienced  little  super- 
fluous civility. 

All  eyes  were  now  turned  on  the  country  lad 
standing  at  the  door  in  his  worn  three-cornered 
hat,  gray  coat,  leather  breeches,  and  blue  yarn 
stockings,  leaning  on  an  oaken  cudgel  and  bearing 
a  w^allet  on  his  back. 

Eobert  replied  to  the  courteous  innkeeper  with 
such  an  assumption  of  confidence  as  befitted  the 
major's  relative.  "  My  honest  friend,"  he  said, 
''  I  shall  make  it  a  point  to  patronize  your  house 
on  some  occasion  when  " — here  he  could  not  help 
lowering  his  voice — "  when  I  may  have  more  than 
a  parchment  three-pence  in  my  pocket.  My 
present  business,"  continued  he,  speaking  with 
lofty  confidence,  "  is  merely  to  inquire  my  way  to 
the  dwelling  of  my  kinsman,  Major  Molineux." 

There  was  a  sudden  and  general  movement  in 
the  room,  which  Robin  interpreted  as  expressing 
the  eagerness  of  each  individual  to  become  his 

21 


322  Black  Rock. 

guide.  But  the  innkeeper  turned  his  eyes  to  a 
written  paper  on  the  wall,  which  he  read,  or 
seemed  to  read,  with  occasional  recurrences  to  the 
young  man's  figure. 

"  What  have  we  here  ?  "  said  he,  breaking  his 
speech  into  little  dry  fragments:  "  'Left  the  house 
of  the  subscriber,  bounden  servant,  Hezekiah 
Mudge;  had  on,  when  he  went  away,  gray  coat, 
leather  breeches,  master's  third  best  hat.  One 
pound  currency  reward  to  whosoever  shall  lodge 
him  in  any  jail  of  the  province.'  Better  trudge, 
boy,  better  trudge !  " 

Robin  had  begun  to  draw  his  hand  toward  the 
lighter  end  of  the  oak  cudgel,  but  a  strange  hos- 
tility in  every  countenance  induced  him  to  re- 
linquish his  purpose  of  breaking  the  courteous 
innkeeper's- head.  As  he  turned  to  leave  the  room, 
he  encountered  a  sneering  glance  from  the  bold- 
featured  personage  whom  he  had  before  noticed, 
and  no  sooner  was  he  beyond  the  door  than  he 
heard  a  general  laugh,  in  which  the  innkeeper's 
voice  might  be  distinguished,  like  the  dropping  of 
small  stones  into  a  kettle. 

"  "Now,  is  it  not  strange,"  thought  Robin,  with 
his  usual  shrewdness, — "  is  it  not  strange  that 
the  confession  of  an  empty  pocket  should  out- 


Major  Molineux.  323 

weigh  tJie  name  of  my  kinsman,  Major  Molineux? 
Oh,  if  I  liud  one  of  those  grinning  rascals  in  the 
woods  where  I  and  my  oak  sapling  grew  up  to- 
gether, I  would  teach  him  that  my  arm  is  heavy, 
though  my  purse  he  light!  " 

On  turning  the  comer  of  the  narrow  lane  Robia 
found  himself  in  a  spacious  street  with  an  un- 
broken line  of  lofty  houses  on  each  side  and  a 
steepled  building  at  the  upper  end,  whence  the 
ringing  of  a  bell  announced  the  hour  of  nine.  The 
light  of  the  moon  and  the  lamps  from  the  nimier- 
ous  shop-windows  discovered  people  promenading 
on  the  pavement,  and  amongst  them  Robin  hoped 
to  recognize  his  hitherto  inscrutable  relative. 
The  result  of  his  former  inquiries  made  him  un- 
willing to  hazard  another  in  a  scene  of  such  pub- 
licity, and  he  detei-mined  to  walk  slowly  and 
silently  up  the  street,  thrusting  his  face  close  to 
that  of  every  elderly  gentleman,  in  search  of  the 
major's  lineaments.  In  his  progress  Robin  en- 
countered many  gay  and  gallant  figures.  Em- 
broidered garments  of  showy  colors,  enormous 
periwigs,  gold-laced  hats,  and  silver-hilted  swords 
glided  past  him  and  dazzled  his  optics.  Travelled 
youths,  imitators  of  the  European  fine  gentlemen 
of  the  period,  trod  jauntinglj  along,  half  danc- 


324  Black   Rock. 

ing  to  th.e  fashionable  tunes  whicli  tliej  hummed, 
and  making  poor  Robin  ashamed  of  his  quiet  and 
natural  gaitv  At  length,  after  many  pauses  to 
examine  the  gorgeous  display  of  goods  in  the 
shop-windows,  and  after  suffering  some  rebukes 
for  the  impertinence  of  his  scrutiny  into  people's 
faces,  the  major's  kinsman  found  himself  near 
the  8-teepled  building,  still  unsuccessful  in  his 
search.  As  yet,  however,  he  had  seen  only  one 
side  of  the  thronged  street,  so  Robin  crossed,  and 
continued  the  same  sort  of  inquisition  down  the 
opposite  pavement,  with  stronger  hopes  than  the 
philosopher  seeking  an  honest  man,  but  with  no 
better  fortune.  He  had  arrived  about  midway 
toward  the  lower  end,  from  which  his  course  be- 
gan, when  he  overheard  the  approach  of  some  one 
who  struck  down  a  cane  on  the  flag^stones  at  every 
step,  uttering  at  regular  intervals  two  sepulchral 
hems. 

"  Mercy  on  us ! ''  quoth  Robin,  recognizing 
the  sound. 

Turning  a  corner  which  chanced  to  be  close 
at  his  right  hand,  he  hastened  to  pursue  his  re- 
searches in  some  other  part  of  the  town.  His  pa- 
tience now  was  wearing  low,  and  he  seemed  to 
feel    more    fatigue    from    his    rambles    since    he 


Major  Molineux.  325 

crossed  the  ferry  than  from  his  journey  of  several 
days  on  the  other  side.  Hunger  also  pleaded 
loudly  within  him,  and  Robin  began  to  balance 
the  propriety  of  demanding,  violently  and  with 
lifted  cudgel,  the  necessary  guidance  from  the 
first  solitary  passenger  whom  he  should  meet. 
While  a  resolution  to  this  effect  was  gaining 
strength  he  entered  a  street  of  mean  appearance, 
on  either  side  of  which  a  row  of  ill-built  houses 
was  straggling  toward  the  harbor.  The  moonlight 
fell  upon  no  passenger  along  the  whole  ext/Cnt, 
but  in  the  third  domicile  which  Robin  passed 
tJiere  was  a  half-opened  door,  and  his  keen  glance 
detected  a  woman's  garment  within. 

"  My  luck  may  be  better  here,"  said  he  to  him- 
seH. 

Accordingly,  he  approached  the  door,  and  be- 
held it  shut  closer  as  he  did  so;  yet  an  opened 
space  remained,  sufficing  for  the  fair  oecupant  to 
observe  the  stranger  without  a  corresponding  dis- 
play on  her  part.  All  that  Robin  could  discern 
was  a  strip  of  scarlet  petticoat  and  tlie  occasional 
sparkle  of  an  eye,  as  if  the  moonbeams  were 
trembling  on  some  bright  thing. 

"  Pretty  mistress  " — for  T  may  call  her  so  with 
a  good  conscience,  thought  the  shrewi"?  youth,  since 


326  Black   Rock. 

I  know  iiotldng  to  the  contrary, — "  mj  sweet 
pretty  mistress,  will  you  be  kind  enough  to  tell 
me  whereabouts  I  must  seek  the  dwelling  of  my 
kinsman,  Major  Molineux?" 

Robin's  voice  was  plaintive  and  winndng,  and  the 
female,  seeing  nothing  to  be  shunned  in  the  hand- 
some country  youth,  thrust  open  the  door  and 
came  forth  into  the  moonlight.  She  was  a  dainty 
little  figure,  with  a  white  neck,  round  arms,  and 
a  slender  waist,  at  the  extremity  of  which  her 
scarlet  petticoat  jutted  out  over  a  hoop,  as  if  she 
were  standing  in  a  balloon.  Moreover,  her  face 
was  oval  and  pretty,  her  hair  dark  beneath  the 
little  cap,  and  her  bright  eyes  possessed  a  sly 
freedom  which  triumphed  over  those  of  Robin. 

"  Major  Molineux  dwells  here,"  said  this  fair 
woman. 

]^ow,  her  voice  was  the  sweetest  Robin  had 
heard  that  night,  the  airy  counterpart  of  a  stream 
of  melted  silver,  yet  he  could  not  help  doubting 
whether  that  sweet  voice  spoke  gospel  truth.  He 
looked  up  and  down  the  mean  street,  and  then 
surveyed  the  house  before  which  they  stood.  It 
was  a  small  dark  edifice  of  two  stories,  the  second 
of  which  projected  over  the  lower  floor,  and  the 


Major  Molineux.  327 

front  apartment  had  the  aspect  of  a  shop  for 
petty  commodities. 

"  JSTow  truly  I  am  in  luck,"  replied  Eohin, 
cunningly,  "  and  so  indeed  is  my  kinsman,  the 
major,  in  having  so  pretty  a  housekeeper.  But  I 
prithee  trouble  him  to  step  to  the  door ;  I  will  de- 
liver him  a  message  from  his  friends  in  the  coun- 
try, and  then  go  back  to  my  lodgings  at  the  inn." 

"  Kay,  the  major  has  been  a-bed  this  hour  or 
more,"  said  the  lady  of  the  scarlet  petticoat,  "  and 
it  would  be  to  little  purpose  to  disturb  him  to- 
night, seeing  his  evening  draught  was  of  the 
strongest.  But  he  is  a  kind-hearted  man,  and  it 
would  be  as  much  as  my  life's  worth  to  let  a  kins- 
man of  his  turn  away  from  the  door.  You  are  the 
good  old  gentleman's  very  picture,  and  I  could 
swear  that  was  his  rainy-weather  hat.  Also  he 
has  garments  very  much  resembling  those  leather 
small-clothes.  But  come  in,  I  pray,  for  I  bid  you 
hearty  welcome  in  his  name." 

So  saying,  the  fair  and  hospitable  dame  took 
our  hero  by  the  hand,  and  the  touch  was  light 
and  the  force  was  gentleness,  and  though  Robin 
read  in  her  eyes  what  he  did  not  hear  in  her 
words,  yet  the  slender-waisted  woman  in  the  scar- 
let  petticoat   proved    stronger   than    the    athletic 


328  Black   Rock. 

coimtrj  youth.  She  had  drawn  his  half-willing 
footsteps  nearly  to  the  threshold  when  the  open- 
ing of  a  door  in  the  neighborhood  startled  the 
major's  housekeeper,  and,  leaving  the  major's 
kinsman,  she  vanished  speedily  into  her  own  dom- 
icile. A  heavy  yawn  preceded  the  apearanee  of 
a  man  who,  like  the  Moonshine  of  Pyramus  and 
Thisbe,  carried  a  lantern,  needlessly  aiding  his 
sister  luminary  in  the  heavens.  As  he  walked 
sleepily  up  the  street  he  turned  his  broad  dull 
face  on  Robin  and  displayed  a  long  staff  spiked  at 
the  end. 

"  Home,  vagabond,  home !  "  said  the  watchman, 
in  accents  that  seemed  to  fall  asleep  as  soon  as 
they  were  uttered.  "  Home,  or  we'll  set  you  in 
the  stocks  by  peep  of  day !  " 

"  This  is  the  second  hint  of  the  kind,"  thought 
Robin.  "  I  wish  they  would  end  my  difficulties 
by  setting  me  there  to-night." 

ISTevertheless,  the  youth  felt  an  instinctive  an- 
tipathy toward  the  guardian  of  midnight  order 
which  at  first  prevented  him  from  asking  his 
usual  question.  But  just  wdien  the  man  was  about 
to  vanish  behind  the  comer  Robin  resolved  not  to 
lose  the  opportimity,  and  shouted  lustily  after 
him: 


Major  Molineux.  329 

"  I  say,  friend,  will  you  giiide  me  to  the  bouse 
of  my  kinsman,  Major  Molineux  ?  " 

The  watchman  made  no  reply,  hut  turned  the 
comer  and  was  gone;  jet  Rohin  seemed  to  hear 
the  sound  of  drowsy  laughter  stealing  along  the 
solitary  street.  At  that  moment  also  a  pleasant 
titter  saluted  him  from  the  open  window  above 
his  head;  he  looked  up  and  caught  the  sparklt; 
of  a  saucy  eye;  a  round  arm  beckoned  to  him, 
and  next  he  heard  light  footsteps  descending  the 
staircase  within.  But  Robin,  being  of  the  house- 
hold of  a  N^ew  England  clergyman,  was  a  good 
youth  as  well  as  a  shrewd  one,  so  he  resisted  temp- 
tation and  fled  away. 

He  now  roamed  desperately  and  at  random 
through  the  town,  almost  ready  to  believe  that  a 
spell  was  on  him  like  that  by  which  a  wizard  of 
his  country  had  onoe  kept  three  pursuers  wander- 
ing a  whole  winter  night  within  twenty  pacas  of 
the  cottage  which  they  sought.  The  streets  lay 
before  him  strange  and  desolate,  and  tlie  lights 
were  extinguished  in  alinost  every  house.  Twice, 
however, little  parties  of  men,  among  whom  "Robin 
distinguished  individuals  in  outlandish  attire, 
came  hurrying  along,  but  though  on  both,  occa- 
sions they  paused  to  address  him,  such  intercx)urse 


330  Black  Rock. 

did  not  at  all  enlighten  liis  perplexity.  They  did 
but  utter  a  few  words  in  somo  language  of  which. 
Kobin  knew  nothing,  and,  perceiving  his  inabil- 
ity to  answer,  bestowed  a  curse  upon  him  in  plain 
English  and  hastened  away.  Finally,  the  lad  had 
determined  to  knock  at  the  door  of  every  mansion 
that  mig'ht  appear  worthy  to  be  occupied  by  his 
kinsman,  trusting  that  perseverance  would  over- 
come the  fatality  that  had  hitherto  thwarted  him. 
Firm  in  this  resolve,  he  was  passing  beneath  the 
walls  of  a  church  which  formed  the  comer  of  two 
streets  when,  as  he  turned  into  the  shade  of  its 
steeple,  he  encountered  a  bulky  stranger  muffled 
in  a  cloak.  The  man  was  proceeding  with  the 
speed  of  earnest  business,  but  Robin  planted  him- 
self full  before  him,  holding  the  oak  cudgel  with 
both  hands  acro<se  his  body  as  a  bar  to  further 
passage. 

"  Halt,  honest  man,  and  answer  me  a  question," 
said  he  very  resolutely.  "  Tell  me,  this  instant, 
whereabouts  is  the  dwelling  of  my  kinsman, 
Major  Molineux !  " 

"  Keep  your  tongue  between  your  teeth,  fool, 
and  let  me  pass,"  said  a  deep  gruff  voice,  which 
Robin  partly  remembered.  "  Let  me  pass,  I  say, 
or  I'll  strike  you  to  the  earth !  " 


Major  Molineux.  331 

"  'No,  no,  neighbor !  "  cried  Robin,  flourishing 
his  cudgel,  and  then  thrusting  its  larger  end  close 
to  the  man's  muffled  face.  "  Xc,  no,  I'm  not  the 
fool  you  take  me  for,  nor  do  you  pass  till  I  have 
an  answer  to  my  question.  Whereabouts  is  the 
dwelling  of  my  kinsman,  Major  Molineux  'i  " 

The  stranger,  instead  of  attempting  to  force 
his  passage,  stepped  back  into  the  moonlight,  un- 
muffled  his  face,  and  stared  full  into  that  of 
Robin. 

"  Watch  here  an  hour,  and  Major  Molineux 
will  pass  by,"  said  he. 

Robin  gazed  with  dismay  and  astonishment  on 
the  unprecedented  physiognomy  of  the  speaker. 
The  forehead  with  its  double  prominence,  the 
broad  hooked  nose,  the  shaggy  eyebrows,  and  fiery 
eyes  were  those  which  he  had  noticed  at  the  inn, 
but  the  man's  complexion  had  undergone  a  singu- 
lar, or,  more  properly,  a  twofold,  change.  One 
side  of  the  face  blazed  an  intense  red,  while  the 
other  was  black  as  midnight,  the  division-line  be- 
ing in  the  broad  bridge  of  the  nose;  and  a  month 
which  seemed  to  extend  from  ear  to  ear  was  black 
or  red  in  contrast  to  the  color  of  the  cheek.  The 
effect  was  as  if  two  individual  devils,  a  fiend  of 
fire  and  a  fiend  of  darkness,  had  united  themselves 


332  Black  Rock. 

to  fonn  tliis  infernal  visage.  The  stranger 
grinned  in  Robin's  face,  muffled  Kis  parti-colored 
features,  and  was  out  of  sight  in  a  moment. 

"  Strange  things  we  travellers  see!  "  ejaculated 
Rohin. 

lie  seated  himself,  however,  upon  the  steps  of 
the  church-door,  resolving  to  wait  the  appointed 
time  for  his  kinsman.  A  few  moments  were  con- 
sumed in  philosophical  speculations  upon  the 
species  of  man  who  had  just  left  him;  but,  having 
settled  this  point  shrewdly,  rationally,  and  satis- 
factorily, he  was  compelled  to  look  elsewhere  for 
his  amusement.  And  first  he  threw  his  eyes  along 
the  street.  It  was  of  more  respectable  appearance 
than  most  of  those  into  which  he  had  wandered, 
and  the  moon,  creating,  like  the  imaginative 
power,  a  beautiful  strangeness  in  familiar  objects, 
gave  something  of  romance  to  a  scene  that  might 
not  have  possessed  it  in  tlie  light  of  day.  Tlie 
irregular  and  often  quaint  architecture  of  tlie 
houses,  some  of  whose  roofs  were  broken  into  nu- 
merous little  peaks,  while  others  ascended,  steep 
and  narrow,  into  a  single  point,  and  others  again 
were  square;  the  pure  snow-white  of  some  of  their 
complexions,  the  aged  darkness  of  others,  and  the 
thousand   sparklings   reflected   from   bright   sub- 


Major  Molineux.  333 

stances  in  the  walls  of  many, — these  matters  en- 
gaged Robin's  attention  for  a  while,  and  then 
began  to  grow  wearisome.  JSText  he  endeavored  to 
define  the  forms  of  distant  objects,  starting  away, 
with  almost  ghostly  indistinctness,  just  as  his 
eye  appeared  to  grasp  them ;  and  finally  he  took 
a  minute  survey  of  an  edifice  which  stood  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  street,  directly  in  front  of  the 
church-door  where  he  was  stationed.  It  was  a 
large  square  mansion,  distinguished  from  its 
neighbors  by  a  balcony  which  rested  on  tall  pillars, 
and  by  an  elaborate  Gothic  window  communi- 
cating therewith. 

"  Perhaps  this  is  the  very  house  I  have  been 
seeking,"  thought  Robin. 

Then  he  strove  to  speed  away  the  time  by  lis- 
tening to  a  murmur  which  swept  continually  along 
the  sti-eet,  yet  was  scarcely  audible,  except  to  an 
unaccustomed  ear  like  his ;  it  was  a  low,  dull, 
dreamy  sound,  compounded  of  many  noises,  each 
of  which  was  at  too  great  a  distance  to  be  sepa- 
rately heard.  Robin  marvelled  at  this  snore  of  a 
sleeping  town,  and  marvelled  more  whenever  its 
continuity  was  broken  by  now  and  then  a  distant 
shout,  apparently  loud  where  it  originated.  But 
altogether  it  was  a  sleep-inspiring  sound,  and  to 


334  Black  Rock. 

shake  off  its  drowsy  influence  Robin  arose  and 
climbed  a  window-franie,  that  he  might  view  the 
interior  of  the  church.  There  the  moonbeams 
came  trembling  in,  and  fell  down  upon  the  de- 
serted pews  and  extended  along  the  quiet  aisles. 
A  fainter  yet  more  awful  radiance  was  hovering 
around  the  pulpit,  and  one  solitary  ray  had  dared 
to  rest  upon  the  opened  page  of  the  great  Bible. 
Had  jSTature,  in  that  deep  hour,  become  a  worship- 
per in  the  house  which  man  had  builded  ?  Or  was 
that  heavenly  light  the  visible  sanctity  of  the 
place — visible  because  no  earthly  and  impure  feet 
were  within  the  walls  ?  The  scene  made  Robin's 
heart  shiver  with  a  sensation  of  loneliness 
stronger  than  he  had  ever  felt  in  the  remotest 
depths  of  his  native  woods ;  so  he  turned  away  and 
sat  down  again  before  the  door.  There  were 
graves  around  the  church,  and  now  an  uneasy 
thought  obtruded  into  Robin's  breast.  What  if 
the  object  of  his  search,  which  had  been  so  often 
and  so  strangely  thwarted,  were  all  the  time 
mouldering  in  his  shroud  ?  What  if  his  kinsman 
should  glide  through  yonder  gate,  and  nod  and 
smile  to  him  in  dimly  passing  by? 

"  Oh  that  any  breathing  thing  were  here  with 
me !  "  said  Robin. 


Major  Molineux.  335 

Eecalling  his  thouglits  fi-om  this  uncomfort- 
able track,  he  sent  them  over  forest,  hill,  and 
stream,  and  attempted  to  imagine  how  that  eve- 
ning of  ambiguity  and  weariness  had  been  spent 
by  his  father's  household.  He  pictured  them  as- 
sembled at  the  door,  beneath  the  tree,  the  great 
old  tree,  which  had  been  spared  for  its  huge 
twisted  trunk  and  venerable  shade  when  a  thou- 
sand leafy  brethren  fell.  There,  at  the  g"oing 
down  of  the  summer  sun,  it  was  his  father's  cus- 
tom to  perform  domestic  worship,  that  the  neigh- 
bors might  come  and  join  with  him  like  brothers 
of  the  family,  and  that  the  wayfaring  man  might 
pause  to  drink  at  that  fountain  and  keep  his  heart 
pure  by  freshening  the  memory  of  home.  Ilobin 
distinguished  the  seat  of  every  individual  of  the 
little  audience ;  he  saw  the  good  man  in  the  midst 
holding  the  Scriptures  in  the  golden  light  that 
fell  from  the  western  clouds ;  he  beheld  him  close 
the  book,  and  all  rise  up  to  pray.  He  heard  the 
old  thanksgivings  for  daily  mercies,  the  old  sup- 
plications for  their  continuance,  to  which  he  had 
so  often  listened  in  weariness,  but  whicb  were 
now  among  his  dear  remembrances.  He  per- 
ceived the  slight  inequality  of  his  father's  voice 
when  he  came  to  speak  of  the  absent  one;   he 


33^  Black  Rock. 

noted  how  his  mother  turned  her  face  to  the  broad 
and  knotted  trunk;  how  his  elder  brother  scorned, 
because  the  beard  was  rough  upon  his  upper  lip, 
to  i)ermit  his  features  to  be  moved;  how  the 
younger  sister  drew  down  a  low-hanging  branch 
before  her  eyes;  and  how  the  little  one  of  all, 
whose  sports  had  hitherto  broken  the  decorum  of 
the  scene,  understood  the  prayer  for  her  pla^nnate 
and  burst  into  clamorous  grief.  Then  he  saw 
them  go  in  at  the  door,  and  when  Robin  would 
have  entered  also  the  latch  tinkled  into  its  place 
and  he  was  excluded  from  his  home. 

"  Am  I  here  or  there  ? "  cried  Eobin,  starting, 
for  all  at  once,  when  his  thoughts  had  become 
visible  and  audible  in  a  dream,  the  long,  ^vide, 
solitary  street  shone  out  before  him. 

He  aroused  himself  and  endeavored  to  fix  his 
attention  steadily  upon  the  large  edifice  which  he 
had  surveyed  before,  but  still  his  mind  kept  vi- 
brating between  fancy  and  reality;  by  turns  the 
pillars  of  the  balcony  lengthened  into  the  tall 
bare  stems  of  pines,  dwindled  down  to  Kuman 
figures,  settled  again  into  their  true  shape  and 
size,  and  then  commenced  a  new  succession  of 
changes.  For  a  single  moment,  when  he  deemed 
himself  awake,  he  could  have  sworn  that  a  Wsage 


Major  Molineux.  337 

— one  which  he  seemed  to  remember,  jet  could  not 
absolutely  name  as  his  kinsman's — was  looking 
toward  him  from  the  Gothic  window.  A  deeper 
sleep  wrestled  with  and  nearly  overcame  him, 
but  tied  at  the  sound  of  footsteps  along  the  oppo- 
site pavement.  Robin  rubbed  his  eyes,  discerned 
a  man  passing  at  the  foot  of  the  balcony,  and  ad- 
dressed him  in  a  loud,  peevish,  and  lamentable 
cry: 

"  Hallo,  friend !  must  I  wait  here  all  night  for 
my  kinsman,  Major  Molineux?" 

The  sleeping  echoes  awoke  and  answered  the 
voice,  and  the  passenger,  barely  able  to  discern 
a  figure  sitting  in  the  oblique  shade  of  the  steeple, 
traversed  the  street  to  obtain  a  nearer  view.  He 
was  himself  a  gentleman  in  his  prime,  of  open, 
intelligent,  cheerful,  and  altogether  prepossess- 
ing countenance.  Perceiving  a  country  youth, 
apparently  homeless  and  without  friends,  he  ac- 
costed him  in  a  tone  of  real  kindness  which  had 
become  strange  to  Robin's  ears. 

"  Well,  my  good  lad,  why  are  you  sitting 
here  ?  "  inquired  he.  "  Can  I  be  of  service  to 
you  in  any  way  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  no+,  sir,"  replied  Rohin,  des]X)nd 
ingly ;  "  yet  I  shall  take  it  kindly  if  you'll  answ 


338  Black  Rock. 

ine  a  single  question.  I've  been  searcliing  half 
the  night  for  one  Major  Molineux;  now,  sir, 
is  there  really  such  a  person  in  these  pai'ts,  or  am 
I  dreaming  ?  " 

"  Major  Molineux !  The  name  is  not  altogether 
strange  to  me,"  said  the  gentleman,  smiling. 
"  Have  you  any  objections  to  telling  me  the  na- 
ture of  your  business  with  him  ?  " 

Then  Robin,  briefly  related  that  his  father  was 
a  clergyman,  settled  on  a  small  salary  at  a  long 
distance  back  in  the  country,  and  that  he  and 
Major  Molineux  were  brothers'  children.  The 
major,  having  inherited  riches  and  acquired  civil 
and  military  rank,  had  visited  his  cousin  in  great 
pomp  a  year  or  two  before,  had  manifested  much 
interest  in  Robin  and  an  elder  brother,  and,  being 
childless  himself,  had  thrown  out  hints  respecting 
the  future  establishment  of  one  of  them  in  life. 
The  elder  brother  was  destined  to  succeed  to  the 
farm  which  his  father  cultivated  in  the  interval 
of  sacred  duties;  it  was  therefore  determined 
that  Robin  should  profit  by  his  kinsman's  gener- 
ous intentions,  especially  as  he  seemed  to  be 
rather  the  favorite  and  was  thought  to  possess 
other  necessary  endowments. 

"  For   I   have   the  name   of  being   a   shrewd 


Major  Molineux.  339 

youth,"  observed  Robin  in  this  part  of  his  story. 

"  I  doubt  not  you  deserve  it,"  replied  his  new 
friend,  ^ood-naturedly ;   "  but  pray  proceed." 

"  Well,  sir,  being  nearly  eighteen  years  old 
and  well-grown,  as  you  see,"  continued  Eobiu, 
drawing  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  "  I  thought 
it  high  time  to  begin  the  world.  So  my  mother 
and  sister  put  me  in  handsome  trim,  and  my 
father  gave  me  half  the  remnant  of  kis  last 
year's  salary,  and  five  days  ago  I  started  for  this 
place  to  pay  the  major  a  visit.  But,  would  you 
believe  it,  sir,  I  crossed  the  ferry  a  little  after 
dark,  and  have  yet  found  nobody  that  would  show 
me  the  way  to  his  dwelling ;  only,  an  hour  or  two 
since,  I  was  told  to  wait  here  and  Major  Molineux 
would  pass  by." 

"  Can  you  describe  the  man  who  told  you 
this  ?  "  inquired  the  gentleman. 

"  Oh,  he  was  a  very  ill-favored  fellow,  sir," 
replied  Robin,  "  with  two  great  bumps  on  his 
forehead,  a  hook  noso,  fiery  eyes,  and,  what  struck 
me  as  the  strangest,  his  face  was  of  two  different 
colors.  Do  you  happen  to  know  such  a  maffi, 
sir?" 

"  !N'ot  intimately,"  answered  the  stranger,  "  but 
I  chanced  to  meet  him  a  little  time  previous  to 


340  Black  Rock. 

your  stopping  me.  I  believe  you  may  trust  Ms 
word,  and  that  the  major  will  very  shortly  pass 
through  this  street.  In  the  mean  time,  as  I  have 
a  singular  curiosity  to  witness  your  meeting,  I 
will  sit  down  here  upon  the  steps  and  bear  you 
company," 

He  seated  himself  accordingly,  and  soon  en- 
gaged his  companion  in  animated  discourse.  It 
was  but  of  brief  continuance,  how^ever,  for  a  noise 
of  shouting  which  had  long  been  remotely  audible 
drew  so  much  nearer  that  Robin  inquired  its 
cause. 

"  What  may  be  the  meaning  of  this  uproar  ?  " 
asked  he.  "  Truly,  if  your  town  be  always  as 
noisy,  I  shall  find  little  sleep  while  I  am  an  in- 
habitant." 

"  Wliy,  indeed,  friend  Robin,  there  do  appear 
to  be  three  or  four  riotous  fellows  abroaid  to- 
night," replied  the  gentleman.  "  You  must  not 
expect  all  the  stillness  of  your  native  woods  here 
in  our  streets.  But  the  watch  will  shortly  be  at 
the  heels  of  these  lads,  and — " 

"  Ay,  and  set  them  in  the  stocks  by  peep  of 
day,"  interrupted  Robin,  recollecting  his  own  en- 
counter with  the  drowsy  lantern-bearer.  "  But, 
dear  sir,   if  I  may  trust  my  ears,   an  army  of 


Major  Molineux.  341 

watchmen  would  never  make  head  against  such  a 
multitude  of  riotei*s.  There  were  at  lea^t  a 
thousand  voices  went  up  to  make  that  one  shout." 

"  May  not  a  man  have  several  voices,  Robin, 
as  well  as  two  complexions  ?  "  said  his  friend. 

"  Perhaps  a  man  may,  but  Heaven  forbid  that 
a  woman  should !  "  responded  the  shrewd  youth, 
thinking-  of  the  seductive  tones  of  the  major's 
housekeeper. 

The  sounds  of  a  trumpet  in  some  neighboring 
street  now  became  so  evident  and  continual  that 
Robin's  curiosity  was  strongly  excited.  In  ad- 
dition to  the  shouts,  he  heard  frequent  bursts  from 
many  instruments  of  discord,  and  a  wild  and 
confused  laughter  filled  up  the  intervals.  Robin 
rose  from  the  steps  and  looked  wistfully  toward 
a  point  whither  several  people  seemed  to  be  hast- 
ening. 

"  Surely  some  prodigious  merry-making  is  go- 
ing on,"  exclaimed  he.  "  I  have  laughed  very 
little  since  I  left  home,  sir,  and  should  lie  sorry 
to  lose  an  opportunity.  Shall  we  step  round  the 
corner  by  that  darkish  house  and  take  our  share 
of  the  fun  ?  " 

"  Sit  down  again,  sit  down,  good  Robin,"  re- 
plied the  gentleman,  laying  his  hand  on  the  skirt 


342  Black  Rock. 

of  the  gray  coat.  "  You  forget  that  we  must  wait, 
here  for  your  kinsman,  and  there  is  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  he  will  pass  by  in  the  course  of  a  verf 
few  moments." 

The  near  approach  of  the  uproar  had  now  dijt- 
turbed  the  neighborhood;  windows  flew  open  on 
all  sides,  and  many  heads,  in  the  attire  of  the 
pillow  and  confused  by  sleep  suddenly  broken, 
were  protruded  to  the  gaze  of  whoever  had  leisure 
to  observe  them.  Eager  voices  hailed  each  other 
from  house  to  house,  all  demanding  the  explana- 
tion which  not  a  soul  could  give.  Half-dressed 
men  hurried  toward  the  unknown  commotion, 
stumbling  as  they  went  over  the  stone  steps  that 
thrust  themselves  into  the  narrow  foot-walk.  The 
shouts,  the  laughter,  and  the  tuneless  bray,  the 
antipodes  of  music,  came  onward  with  increasing 
din,  till  scattered  individuals  and  then  denser 
bodies  began  to  appear  round  a  corner  at  the  dis- 
tance of  a  hundred  yards. 

"  Will  you  recognize  your  kinsman  if  he  passes 
in  this  crowd  ?  "  inquired  the  gentleman. 

"  Indeed,  I  can't  warrant  it,  sir,  but  I'll  take 
my  stand  here  and  keep  a  bright  look-out,"  an- 
swered Eobin,  descending  to  the  outer  edge  of  the 
pavement. 


Major  Molineux.  343 

A  mighty  stream  of  people  now  emptied  into 
the  street  and  came  rolling  slowly  toward  the 
church.  A  single  horseman  wheeled  the  corner 
in  the  midst  of  them,  and  close  behind  him  camp 
a  band  of  fearful  wind-instruments,  sending  fortn 
a  fresher  discord  now  that  no  intervening  build- 
ings k€pt  it  from  the  ear.  Then  a  redder  light 
disturbed  the  moonbeams,  and  a  dense  multitude 
of  torches  shone  along  the  street,  concealing  by 
their  glare  whatever  object  they  illuminated. 
The  single  horseman,  clad  in  a  military  dress  and 
bearing  a  drawn  sword,  rode  onward  as  the  leader, 
and  by  his  fierce  and  variegated  countenance  ap- 
peared like  war  personified :  the  red  of  one  cheek 
was  an  emblem  of  fire  and  sword;  the  blackness 
of  the  other  betokened  the  mourning  that  attends 
them.  In  his  train  were  wild  figures  in  the  In- 
dian dress  and  many  fantastic  shapes  without  a 
model,  giving  the  whole  march  a  visionary  air, 
as  if  a  dream  had  broken  forth  from  some  feverish 
brain  and  w^ere  sweeping  visibly  through  the  mid- 
night streets.  A  mass  of  people,  inactive  except 
as  applauding  spectators,  hemmed  the  procession 
in,  and  several  women  ran  along  the  sidewalk, 
piercing  the  confusion  of  heavier  sounds  with 
their  shrill  voices  of  mirth  or  terror. 


344  Black  Rock. 

"  The  double-faced  fellow  has  his  eye  upon 
me,"  muttered  Robin,  with  an  indefinite  but  an 
uncomfortable  idea  that  he  himself  was  to  bear  a 
part  in  the  pageantry. 

The  leader  turned  himself  in  the  saddle  and 
fixed  his  glance  full  upon  the  country  youth  as 
the  steed  went  slowly  by.  When  Eobin  had  freed 
his  eyes  from  those  fiery  ones  the  musicians  were 
passing  before  him  and  the  torches  w^ere  close  at 
hand,  but  the  unsteady  brightness  of  the  latter 
formed  a  veil  which  he  could  not  penetrate.  The 
ra,ttling  of  wheels  over  the  stones  sometimes  found 
its  way  to  his  ear,  and  confused  traces  of  a  hu- 
man form  appeared  at  intervals  and  then  melted 
into  the  vivid  light,  A  moment  more  and  the 
leader  thundered  a  command  to  halt:  the  trum- 
pets vomited  a  horrid  breath  and  then  held  their 
peace;  the  shouts  and  laughter  of  the  people 
died  away,  and  there  remained  only  a  universal 
hum  allied  to  silence.  Right  before  Robin's  eyes 
was  an  uncovered  cart.  There  the  torches  blazed 
the  brightest,  there  the  moon  shone  out  like  day, 
and  there,  in  tar-and-feathery  dignity,  sat  his 
kinsman,  Major  Molineux ! 

He  was  an  elderly  man,  of  large  and  majestic 
person,  and.  strong  square  features  betokening  a 


Major   Molineux.  345 

steady  soul;  but,  steady  as  it  was,  liis  enemies  had 
found  means  to  shake  it.  His  face  was  pale  as 
death  and  far  more  ghastly;  the  broad  forehead 
was  contracted  in  his  agony,  so  that  his  eyebrows 
foraied  one  grizzled  line;  his  eyes  were  red  and 
wild,  and  the  foam  hung  white  upon  his  quivering 
lip.  His  whole  frame  was  agitated  by  a  quick 
and  continual  tremor,  which  his  pride  strove  to 
quell  even  in  those  circumstances  of  overwhelm- 
ing humiliation.  But  perhaps  the  bitterest  pang 
of  all  was  when  his  eyes  met  those  of  Robin,  for 
he  evidently  knew  him  on  the  instant  as  the  youth 
stood  witnessing  the  foul  disgrace  of  a  head  grown 
gray  in  honor.  They  stared  at  each  other  in 
silence,  and  Robin's  knees  shook  and  his  hair 
bristled  with  a  mixture  of  pity  and  terror.  Soon, 
however,  a  bewildering  excitement  began  to  seize 
upon  his  mind;  the  preceding  adventures  of  the 
night,  the  unexpected  appearance  of  the  crowd,  the 
torches,  the  confused  din  and  the  hush  that  fol- 
lowed, the  spectre  of  his  kinsman  reviled  by  that 
great  multitude, — all  this,  and,  more  than  all,  a 
perception  of  tremendous  ridicule  in  tlie  whole 
scene,  affected  him  with  a  sort  of  mental  in- 
ebriety. At  that  moment  a  voice  of  sluggish  mer- 
riment saluted  Robin's  ears;  he  turned  instinct- 


346  Black  Rock. 

ively,  and  just  behind  the  corner  of  tte  cKurcH 
stood  ^he  lantern-bearer,  rubbing  his  eyes  and 
drowsily  enjoying  the  lad's  amazement.  Then  he 
heard  a  peal  of  laughter  like  the  ringing  of  silvery 
bells ;  a  woman  twitched  his  arm,  a  saucy  eye  met 
his,  and  he  saw  the  lady  of  the  scarlet  petticoat. 
A  sharp  dry  cachinnation  appealed  to  his  memory, 
and,  standing  on  tiptoe  in  the  crowd,  with  his 
white  apron  over  his  head,  he  beheld  the  courteous 
little  innkeeper.  And  lastly,  there  sailed  over  the 
heads  of  the  multitude  a  great  broad  laugh  broken 
in  the  midst  by  two  sepulchral  hems ;  thus,  "  Haw, 
haw,  haw ! — hem,  hem  ! — haw,  haw,  haw,  haw !  " 
The  sound  proceeded  from  the  balcony  of  the 
opposite  edifice,  and  thither  Robin  turned  his  eyes. 
In  front  of  the  Gothic  window  stood  the  old  citi- 
zen wrapped  in  a  wide  gow^n,  his  gray  periwig 
exchanged  for  a  night-cap  which  was  thrust  back 
from  his  forehead,  and  his  silk  stockings  hanging 
about  his  legs.  He  supported  himself  on  his  pol- 
ished cane  in  a  fit  of  convulsive  merriment,  which 
manifested  itself  on  his  solemn  old  features  like 
a  funny  inscription  on  a  tombstone.  Then  Robin 
seemed  to  hear  the  voices  of  the  barbers,  of  the 
guests  of  the  inn,  and  of  all  w^ho  had  made  sport 
of  him  that  night.     The  contagion  was  spreading 


I 


Major  Molineux.  347 

among  the  multitude,  wlieu  all  at  once  it  seized 
upon  Robin,  and  Le  sent  forth  a  shout  of  laughter 
that  echoed  through  the  street;  every  man  shook 
his  sides,  every  man  emptied  his  lungs,  but 
Robin's  shout  was  the  loudest  there.  The  cloud- 
spirits  peeped  from  their  silvery  islands  as  the 
congregated  mirth  went  roaring  up  the  sky.  The 
Man  in  the  Moon  heard  the  far  bellow.  "  Oho," 
quoth  he,  "  the  old  earth  is  frolicksome  to-night !  " 
When  there  was  a  momentary  calm  in  tliat  tem- 
pestuous sea  of  sound  the  leader  gave  the  sign, 
the  procession  resumed  its  march.  On  they  went, 
like  fiends  that  throng  in  mockery  around  some 
dead  potentate,  mighty  no  more,  but  majestic  still 
in  his  agony.  On  they  went,  in  counterfeited, 
pomp,  in  senseless  uproar,  in  frenzied  merriment, 
trampling  all  on  an  old  man's  heart.  On  swept 
the  tumult  and  left  a  silent  street  behind. 


"  Well,  Robin,  are  you  dreaming  ?  "  inquired 
the  gentleman,  laying  his  hand  on  the  youth's 
shoulder. 

Robin  started  and  withdrew  his  arm  from  the 
stone  post  to  which  he  had  instinctively  clung  as 
the  livinff  stream  rolled  bv  him.     His  c)ieek  was 


348  Black  Rock. 

somewliat  pale,  and  liis  eye  not  quite  as  lively  as 
in  the  earlier  part  of  the  evening. 

"  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  show  me  the  way 
to  the  ferry  1  "  said  he  after  a  moment's  pause. 

"  You  have,  then,  adopted  a  new  subject  of  in- 
quiry ?  "  observed  his  companion  with  a  smile. 

"  Why,  yes,  sir,"  replied  Eobin,  rather  dryly. 
"  Thanks  to  you  and  to  my  other  friends,  I  have 
at  last  met  my  kinsman,  and  he  will  scarce  desire 
to  see  my  face  again.  I  begin  to  grow  weary  of 
a  town  life,  sir.  Will  you  show  me  the  way  to 
the  ferry  ?  " 

"  'No,  my  good  friend  Kobin — not  to-night,  at 
least,"  said  the  gentleman.  "  Some  few  days 
hence,  if  you  wish  it,  I  will  speed  you  on  your 
journey.  Or,  if  you  prefer  to  remain  with  us, 
perhaps,  as  you  are  a  shrewd  youth,  you  may  rise 
in  the  world  without  the  help  of  your  kinBman, 
Major  Molineux." 

THE  END. 


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